Long Lost Long Last
by hardly loquacious
Summary: After a case involving obscure hobbies, Jane decides to bring back the long lost art of letter-writing. In spite of his best efforts, he only manages to secure a single correspondant.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: SO. I am currently rather frustrated with show. The solution? Starting a fluffy multiparter of course! Probably best not to take this *too* seriously. It's not a farce, but it's also going to be mostly light. Because that's what I felt like writing. I hope you enjoy it!

xxx

Long lost (Long last)

xxx

Lisbon walked out into the bullpen, intent on getting an update from her team on their latest case. A young woman, April Johnson had been found, shot to death in a state park.

"Van Pelt," she called. "Anything on our victim's credit cards that stands out?"

The redhead shook her head. "No boss. Pretty much the usual suspects there, with the exception of a large number of transactions buying art supplies, but given April's hobbies that's not surprising."

Lisbon sighed. She'd figured as much. "And nothing that indicates April may have had an inappropriate relationship with her painting teacher?" she asked hopefully. They'd interviewed the man earlier in the day and he'd given off a serious 'creep' vibe. Lisbon wasn't sure it was a 'he's dangerous creepy' vibe or just a normal 'creepy' vibe, but the man had definitely looked like a good potential suspect.

Unfortunately, Van Pelt had bad news on that front too. "No, sorry. Nothing objectionable in his past that I could find. No priors, no formal complaints."

"His alibi's pretty solid too, Boss," Rigsby interjected, walking up. "He was leaving a bar just about time of death. Got him on a surveillance camera and everything. It's possible that he broke every traffic law on the books to get to the park in time to shoot April, but…"

"It's unlikely," Lisbon murmured.

"Yeah," Rigsby agreed.

"Oh, he didn't do it," Jane chimed in from his couch.

Lisbon turned towards him, a small smile on her face. "No?" she asked, her tone indulgent.

Jane shook his head. "Our artistic Mr. Robertson may be unpleasant little worm, but that's all he is, a worm. No way he summoned up the courage to actually point a gun at someone and pull the trigger. And you needn't look so disappointed about that fact, Lisbon. You already suspected as much anyway."

Lisbon decided not to reply to that last part. "He was the obvious suspect though," she pointed out. "Teacher with anger-management issues. We had to check him out."

"We did," Jane agreed. "Well, you guys did at least. Now he's clear and it's time to move on to finding the real killer."

Lisbon looked at him sceptically. "Which I suppose is what you've been doing?"

"Absolutely," Jane replied with a nod.

Lisbon walked towards the couch to take a better look at what had caught Jane's attention. She smirked when she saw the title of the book in his hands. "By reading art books?"

"Calligraphy books actually," he corrected her, with a grin of his own.

"Whatever."

"Oh, no, there's a world of difference between painting and calligraphy, Lisbon," Jane told her, shaking his head at her mistake. "The art of writing. I'm actually finding it quite fascinating."

"Well, I'm glad we at the CBI could help you find a new hobby, Jane," Lisbon said dryly.

"Thank you," Jane replied, ignoring her sarcasm. "And in spite of your scepticism, I would point out that according to those credit card records you and Van Pelt were so seriously discussing only a few moments ago, April's interest in calligraphy was new. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't things that are new _particularly_ suspicious in murder investigations?"

"How new?" Lisbon asked, suddenly interested.

"Two weeks," Jane told her. "I wonder if she was taking lessons anywhere. She obviously hadn't gotten very far through this particular book. The spine's barely creased."

"I'll look into the calligraphy thing, Boss," Van Pelt told her. "Maybe find a list of people who might teach it in the area."

Lisbon nodded. "Good idea. Jane…"

"I'm going to keep reading," Jane assured her. "Search for clues and all that, plus you're right. Maybe I do need a new hobby Lisbon."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to give the boyfriend a call again," she said, leaving the room.

Just before she left she heard Jane murmur to himself. "The long lost art of letter-writing…"

xxx

Lisbon didn't see her consultant again until they were on a trip to a local paper shop (Lisbon refused to call it a "Papery"), one that Van Pelt was pretty sure also held classes.

"Lisbon, did you know that calligraphy literally means 'beautiful writing'?" Jane asked. "It's usually only used for official documents now, and wedding invitations now. Well, that and movie props."

"No," she told him with a laugh. "How on earth would I know that? I never went to finishing school."

Jane shrugged.

Lisbon turned slightly towards him, realizing he looked a little disappointed by her dismissal. "You're actually serious about this," she realized.

"I told you, it interests me," he reminded her. "And anyway, I don't think you would have learned calligraphy in finishing school. From what I can gather it was never something used much for day to day letter writing. It was always for more important documents."

"So you're saying that the next time I need to issue an official CBI memo that I should look into it?" she teased.

Jane smiled. "Couldn't hurt. You know, there is some concern that it's going to become a lost art, which is a shame. After all, calligraphy is just fancy handwrighting, and handwriting used to be very important, back when people actually wrote letters. Those letters could contain anything Lisbon, love, business, grocery lists, anything. People used to judge each other based on penmanship, you know."

"Kind of irrelevant now, in the age of the computer," Lisbon pointed out.

"Maybe I'll bring it back," Jane replied stubbornly..

"Letter writing?"

"Maybe."

"Good luck with that," she said dryly. After all, it wasn't like Jane had a wide acquaintance. And she couldn't think of any good reason he'd have for writing a bunch of letters.

This time Jane seemed unperturbed by her tone. "Thank you," he said cheerfully.

Lisbon drove in silence for a few moments, when something suddenly struck her. "Hey, what was that you said before about letters containing all sorts of things? Love… Wasn't our vic's best friend mentioning, how she thought maybe April had gotten close to someone new?"

"You caught that, did you grasshopper?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

She glared at him. "Oh, don't even go there."

"Relax Lisbon," Jane said with a wave of his hand. "All this means is that we have to go and find the letters, like in a Victorian mystery novel. Then this new friend, and possible killer, will be revealed."

"Except that if this actually a mystery novel, the letters are almost certainly burned to a crisp in a trash can somewhere," Lisbon shot back.

"In which case there's always a charred fragment containing just enough information to implicate the guilty party," Jane replied.

Lisbon pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing. "Mmhm."

"Or, barring that we'll fall back on getting a confession," Jane added cheerfully.

"Falling back on actual police work?" she asked, her tone as shocked as she could make it. "I'm surprised at you."

"Hush Lisbon," Jane said easily. "But tell me, when did you first read Sherlock Holmes?"

"What?" she asked, clearly startled by the apparent non sequitur.

"Oh come on," Jane told her. "That was clearly the gateway to your other, more lurid Victorian mysteries. So when was it?"

"I…" she faltered, all of a sudden, unsure why she didn't just tell him. To her relief they pulled up in front of the paper store a few seconds later.

"You can tell me on the way back," Jane assured her with a grin both endearing and infuriating.

xxx

Luckily for Lisbon, Jane became far too interested in the demeanour of the Papery storeowner to interrogate her further on her mystery-reading habits. He was too busy insisting that the meek-looking man, the one who'd spent a good ten minutes telling the two CBI employees about the newest Japanese writing papers he'd just had imported, was hiding a sinister side.

"I'm telling you Lisbon," Jane insisted. "That man was exactly the type to just snap and shoot a woman. All that rage building up inside him, due to past rejections no doubt. I'd imagine it just _exploded._"

"And do you have any evidence of this at all, Jane?" she asked dryly. "Just out of curiosity of course."

"Didn't you see his right hand?" Jane asked.

"I noticed he _had_ one, if that's what you're asking," Lisbon replied. She wracked her brain, but as far as she could remember there hadn't been anything unusual about Mr. Morrison's right hand. No scars, no tattoos, no recent injuries, no distinguishing marks of any kind really.

"Well, of course he _had_ one," Jane sad condescendingly. "I would hardly have asked you if you'd noticed it if it hadn't existed."

"So what then?" Lisbon prompted when Jane didn't continue.

"His fingers were twitching the entire time we were in the store," Jane reminded her.

"Well, yes," Lisbon agreed. "But they were twitching before we introduced ourselves, before he even noticed us actually. So the man has a twitch, what of it?"

"You saw those examples of calligraphy he showed us, calligraphy he'd done," Jane reminded her.

"Yeah."

"The last one was dated a week ago," Jane added.

"So?" Lisbon asked. "Jane, the man _teaches_ calligraphy. He admitted that much; there's certainly nothing illegal about that."

"He's also right-handed," Jane told her. "And calligraphy's something that requires a steady hand, meaning the twitch, although pretty constant, is also probably new. Something that's started in the last week."

Lisbon considered his theory. "You think it started after the murder?" she asked.

"It's rather poetic, don't you think Lisbon?" Jane asked. "Mr. Morrison finally breaks, takes another life, just like he's fantasized about all these years. He thought he could handle the guilt, but guilt always manifests itself somehow. And in his case, his guilt is visible on the very hand he used to pull the trigger and shoot April."

"I think I'm starting to spend too much time with you," Lisbon told him. "Because that actually kind of made sense."

Jane smirked. "Of course it made sense, Lisbon. It was the obvious conclusion. One might even say _elementary._"

Lisbon sighed, well aware of what was coming. She should have known he wouldn't give up on the idea. Once Jane got a thought into his head, he rarely let up on it until he saw it through and got the answers he wanted.

"So come on, tell me," Jane prompted.

"Tell you what?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

Now it was his turn to sigh. "When you first read Sherlock Holmes."

Lisbon pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and tried her best to sound casual. "Why do you want to know?"

Jane smiled, one of his nice ones though. One of the ones that didn't make Lisbon feel like he was trying to mess with her. "I can't just be curious?" he asked.

"You can," she agreed. "In fact, you often are."

"Exactly," Jane told her. "Although now, you're reluctance to tell me has really piqued my interest."

"I was twelve," Lisbon said bluntly.

The smile slipped off Jane's face.

"They were a present from my mother, for my last birthday. I didn't get around to reading them right away, not before... Anyway, then I did. Read them that is. Not that I had a whole lot of spare time at that point. But when I was alone. They were... distracting," she said finally.

"I assume you still have the same copies," Jane murmured.

"Why would I buy new copies of books I already own?" Lisbon said curtly, barely managing not to snap at him.

She glanced over at him, unable to help herself. Suddenly unbelievably annoyed at the man (even if his question had been completely innocent). He'd better not be pitying her.

But he wasn't. There was no pity at all on her consultant's face. Just sadness, and maybe hints of... well, if Lisbon had to guess she'd say affection, but it was hard to tell with Jane sometimes.

"And thus began a lifelong love of crime-fighting, I'll wager," Jane said after a moment.

"What?" Lisbon asked.

"Sherlock Holmes," Jane reminded her. "I mean, I know police work tends to run in families, but it's more than that with you. You _like_ solving the mysteries, catching the bad guys."

"Of course I like catching the bad guys," Lisbon said in exasperation. "Some of us go into law enforcement for reasons that aren't so self-serving," she added pointedly.

"Plus you get to carry a gun," Jane replied cheerfully.

To her own surprise, Lisbon laughed. "All right, you got me," she said dryly. "So tell me then, when did _you_ first read Sherlock Holmes, since we're sharing."

Jane smirked. "I was about sixteen. Not sure how I got my hands on a copy anymore. But I was always fascinated by the detail, the things he noticed."

Lisbon felt laughter bubbling up in her chest again. "Jane, you _identified_ with Sherlock Holmes!" she exclaimed, before her giggles overcame her.

"Well," Jane muttered. "Maybe, yes."

Lisbon's laughter subsided into a chuckle. "That's... oh that's just great," she told him sincerely.

"I'm glad I could amuse you, Lisbon," Jane said, sounding slightly miffed.

But when Lisbon turned towards him, his eyes were laughing, so she wasn't too concerned about having insulted him.

"Tell me," she asked. "Did you make a study of the various kinds of tobacco ash?"

Jane smiled. "No. Human subjects were always more interesting to me."

"Hm," Lisbon said, smiling back. It was hard not to sometimes, really. Irritating as he was.

"Which is why I can't really tell you anything about the skill or accuracy of our particular calligraphy teacher," Jane added, bringing them back to the case. "For example, I can't tell you if the slant of his writing indicates a mercurial temper."

"Graphology's inadmissible in court anyway," Lisbon murmured absently.

Jane's eyes twinkled. "Since when do I care about court?" he asked.

"Well, you do enjoy riling up the judges, so you must care about it a little," Lisbon pointed out.

"Necessary evil," Jane told her dismissively.

Her face lit up. "Oh, so you do think the justice system is _necessary_ then? I guess we must be rubbing off on you."

"Oh hush, Lisbon," Jane said affectionately. "I'm beginning to think calligraphy isn't for me," he said after a moment.

"No?"

"It just isn't practical," Jane said sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry Jane," Lisbon replied, attempting to sound sympathetic.

"No, it's alright," He told her, suddenly grinning again. "I told you. I'm going to bring back letter-writing."

She just laughed as she pulled into the CBI parking lot.

xxx

But, true to his word, Jane did seem to mean what he'd said. Lisbon caught him writing on his couch more than once over the course of the day.

Whenever she asked him what he was doing, Jane just told her that she already knew what he was doing. She could only assume the letter-writing was part of an intricate plan to trick Mr. Morrison into confessing. But no, once Rigsby and Van Pelt pinpointed exactly when the man's hand tremor started, along with security footage showing his car on the way to the park, and a second search of April's apartment revealed a series of obviously unsolicited letters from the calligraphy teacher to his newest student (which she helpfully hadn't burned), getting a confession wasn't difficult.

Meaning Jane was writing mysterious letters were for purely personal reasons.

After updating Wainwright on the outcome of the case, Lisbon walked into the bullpen to congratulate her team, only to find them all holding three identical-looking sheets of paper.

Jane had disappeared.

"Do you know what these are about, Boss?" Van Pelt asked, looking amused and holding up her letter.

"No. What are they?" Lisbon asked, even though she had a pretty good idea.

"You mean you didn't get one?" Rigsby asked.

"No," Lisbon said again, with a shake of her head. "I haven't seen Jane since we arrested Morrison though."

"Neither have we," Rigsby replied. "He just left these on our desks. You've probably got one too."

"Not that I saw," Lisbon replied with a slow shake of her head. She'd stopped by her office briefly after meeting Wainwright to drop off some files and it had been letter-free. "Unless Jane decided to hide it somewhere."

"Ours were just on top of our keyboards," Cho told her.

"I'm sure yours is somewhere," Van Pelt assured her. "After all, it'd be weird if Jane left you out."

Lisbon smiled a little too brightly. "Probably," she agreed. "Knowing Jane he put it in some ridiculous place or other. It'll likely fall on my head when I get in my car to go home tonight or something."

Her team seemed to accept that explanation.

"So, do you know why Jane wrote them in the first place?" Van Pelt asked again.

"He didn't explain in the letters?" Lisbon asked curiously, all the while telling herself it was really none of her business what Jane had written to her team. If he'd wanted her to know, he'd have written her a letter of her own.

"No," Cho scoffed. "There's very little in the way of explanation in these."

Rigsby and Van Pelt nodded.

Lisbon was slightly confused by their reactions, but more than willing to share what information she did have. "Apparently he's bringing back the long lost art of letter writing."

Lisbon watched Van Pelt exchange an incredulous look wtih Rigsby. "With _these?_" she double-checked.

"I think so..." Lisbon said slowly, curious now in spite of herself. "Why? What do they say?"

Van Pelt exchanged another look with Rigsby before unfolding her letter with a flourish and starting to read.

_Dear Grace,_

_I'm writing to complement you on your excellent work on the Lopez case last month. Manipulating the database to find the killer's second vehicle on that computer of yours was really quite well done. I've never been much for computers myself. Better with people. And that was really quite well done. I know Lisbon'll probably never mention it, but she thought so too._

"Except that you did mention it, Boss," Van Pelt said, awkwardly interrupting the reading of her letter. "Just not in front of Jane. Anyway... He continues -"

_You always have a unique perspective on the world. I was wondering, do you prefer the colour green or the colour purple? Your wardrobe would suggest he former, but your purse the latter. Inquiring minds want to know._

_Yours, _

_Jane_

_P.S. I know you're torn about starting a relationship with the new man at your gym, but I say go for it. He's almost certainly at least as interested as you are._

Van Pelt folded her letter quickly, trying not to look embarrassed by the post script.

"That's what it says?" Lisbon asked. It hadn't been what she'd been expecting. Although, with Jane you never really knew what to expect.

"Yeah," Van Pelt agreed. "They're all like that. Kind of. Read yours Wayne."

Rigsby looked surprised at the request, but upon seeing Van Pelt's glare he obediently opened his letter. Blushing slightly, he began to read.

_Dear Rigsby,_

_How are you? Is the little one still causing havoc running around everywhere? He seems to be a reasonably well-behaved little boy. You're doing a good job there. Sarah hasn't brought him into the office in a while though. Shame. It always makes for an interesting afternoon. Lisbon in particular seems to enjoy his visits._

_I was wondering what you thought about ice cream sandwiches. On the one hand, the quality of the ice cream's not as good as buying a tub of ice cream, but on the other hand, ice cream sandwiches are more portable. I'm interested in your thoughts._

_Also, you dropped a dot of mustard on the left side of your jacket at lunch today. I thought you'd like to know._

_Sincerely, _

_Jane_

Van Pelt was noticeably snickering at that point. Lisbon was having trouble containing her own laughter, particularly when Rigsby tried to hide the small stain on the bottom of his jacket.

Taking pity on the man, Lisbon took everyone's attention off of him by turning towards Cho and raising an eyebrow.

Cho just stared back.

She didn't back down.

After a second, he sighed and made a big show of unfolding his letter, but Lisbon knew he didn't mind indulging her. He wouldn't have backed down so easily (or at all) if he had.

Cho cleared his throat.

_Cho,_

_Addressing you as 'Dear,' even as a matter of letter-writing convention didn't seem right somehow. I know you'll understand. I only draw attention to it as a point of interest._

_I've noticed that you're back's been giving you less trouble lately. The acupuncture's really working, isn't it? Don't worry. I won't tell your mother. I know how irritating a gloating parent can be, even if they were right. I'm happy for you. You seem much more comfortable lately. And I know Lisbon's relieved too. She was always a bit worried for you. I could tell._

_Have you ever tried calligraphy? I considered it briefly, but then changed my mind. Lost interest I guess. You don't really seem like the calligraphy type though. How many books would you say you read in a year? My estimate was around 75. Am I right? Don't bother to answer that. I know I am._

_-Jane_

"Are you telling me that with those as a beginning, you aren't about to start a lengthy correspondence with Jane?" Lisbon asked playfully when Cho finished his letter.

"Well, seeing as we spend several hours of almost every day with him, I dunno, it seems kinda pointless," Rigsby pointed out.

"He only wrote these on a whim anyway," Cho added.

"Besides, what would we even talk about?" Van Pelt asked. "E-mail's faster anyway. No one writes letters anymore."

Lisbon sighed, feeling almost disappointed for some reason. "I guess that was why Jane wanted to bring it back."

"Hm," Van Pelt hummed. "Anyway, Cho's right. This is just one of Jane's crazy ideas he'll have grown tired of tomorrow."

"Probably," Lisbon agreed.

"You should go find your letter, Boss," Rigsby told her. "Find out whether Jane's curious about any of your food preferences."

Lisbon smiled. "Yeah, I'll just start searching my entire office to find a letter Jane may or may not have even _written_." Before any of her agents could insist that she _must_ have a letter, Lisbon continued. "Anyway, case is closed. I just talked to Wainwright, everything's done, so you guys can all head out early if you want."

That got Rigsby's attention. Even Cho looked surprised. All three agents immediately began shutting down their computers, deciding to take full advantage of the rare opportunity.

"What about you, Boss?" Van Pelt asked as she stood up and started packing up her stuff.

"I've got a meeting for all team leaders in about twenty minutes, but after that I'm heading out too," Lisbon replied. "You guys go ahead."

"Okay," Rigsby cut in, before Van Pelt could object. "See you tomorrow, Boss."

"Bye," Lisbon said watching them for a second before heading towards her office.

Trying not to walk too quickly, Lisbon shut the door behind her and glanced around, but as far as she could tell there was no white envelope anywhere in sight. If Jane _had_ written her a letter, he had indeed hidden it.

Lisbon waited until she was absolutely sure her team had left before starting her search. She looked in all the obvious placed, albeit as subtly as possible. And then when nothing turned up, she started looking in the less obvious places. After twenty minutes she told herself it was useless. If Jane _had_ hidden her letter, he'd have hidden it in a place she'd never find it until she was least expecting to so there was no point in searching.

Far better to quietly and sensibly get ready for her meeting in ten minutes.

Which is what she started to do. Lisbon picked up a file and quite sensibly began reading it.

Except...

Why _hadn't_ Jane written her a letter? It seemed odd for him to leave her out. The team had certainly been surprised when they'd heard she didn't have a letter of her own.

And he'd written everybody else one.

Maybe he'd gotten tired of bringing back the long lost art of letter-writing faster than he usually got tired of things and couldn't be bothered writing a fourth page of nonsense.

Not that it mattered anyway.

Lisbon went back to skimming her file.

Except that she'd read the file already. It wasn't distracting her from her foolish thoughts the way she'd hoped it would.

She told herself she didn't care. She told herself she was being an idiot. She told herself it didn't mean anything anyway.

Just because Jane had written letters to the rest of the team...

Especially given the general content of the letters. Complete and utter nonsense. The odd stray serious thought, but mostly all three were completely ridiculous. The letters were obviously something her consultant had used as a distraction, trying to find something to occupy his brain once the case started winding down.

He'd probably just been distracted by something else before he got around to writing her one.

It _really_ didn't mean anything.

Except...

Except that a part of her couldn't help feeling like it was high school all over again, and she'd once again be shunned by the popular kids.

It was just a stupid little letter.

It was just...

It was just, she'd thought they were _friends_.

And now Lisbon felt even stupider, because she was beginning to realize that her own damn feelings were hurt, over something that couldn't have been _less _important. She and Jane _were _friends. And she was a grown woman for crying out loud. This shouldn't matter to her even a little bit.

But somehow, stupidly, it did.

All of a sudden she just wanted to go home.

Lisbon stood up abruptly. Time for her meeting. And then she really could leave.

xxx

About an hour later, Lisbon wandered into her office after the staff meeting, seriously exhausted and seriously wanting to go home.

And there it was.

The same fancy envelope she'd seen all the others with earlier, only this one was perched on her keyboard and it had her name on it.

Lisbon bit her lip, trying to conceal a sudden smile. She glanced around warily, but as far as she could tell there was no one around. The bullpen was dark, unsurprising since she'd sent the team home an hour ago. And she hadn't noticed Jane lurking in it on her way past. Maybe he'd gotten tired of waiting for her and left himself.

But before he'd gone, he'd slipped into her office and left a letter for her on her desk.

Shaking her head slightly at her own foolish pleasure, Lisbon dropped into her desk chair, switched on her desk lamp, picked up her letter, and began to read.

xxx

TBC

Alright, that's it for now. Not sure when the next one'll be up, but I wouldn't imagine it'll be too long.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm back with more foolishness. Thus continueth the fluffy portion of this fic. The fluffy portion consisting of the vast majority of the fic, obviously. Not quite all, but enough.

Chapter 2

xxxx

Allowing herself to curl slightly into her desk chair, Lisbon grabbed a pair of scissors from her drawer, and used them as a makeshift letter-opener.

Grinning, she pulled two sheets of paper from the envelope. It would appear that she warranted _two_ pages of mindless nonsense from her consultant. She shook her head slightly; he was really a completely ridiculous man sometimes.

Quite pleased by this turn of events, Lisbon unfolded the sheets of paper and settled in to read her letter.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_You didn't honestly think I'd forget you, did you? (By the way, that question was rhetorical, dear. I'm all too aware of what you thought. Foolish woman.) I can assure you that you were never forgotten, just saved for last._

_Also, I only bought four pieces of this special extra-thick letter-writing paper originally, and then realized later that there was a very good chance that I'd end up needing another sheet. You see, I didn't exactly plan what I was going to write in any of my letters. This fact will, I'm sure, not surprise you, since by this point you'll have already heard the contents of most, if not all, of the notes I wrote to your team. Planning every word just seemed so cold, so calculating. Not at all like the entertaining little notes I wanted to write, not at all what letters should be. So I refused to plan. My letters would not have the stark, impersonal structure of one of those form letters you see all too often. Letters to offer someone a job, letters to refuse someone, letters of condolence or thanks, or whatever. Not for me, Lisbon. Not for me. It's spontaneity that I want._

_(Asking Rigsby about ice cream sandwiches was certainly spontaneous. I don't suppose you have any strong feelings on the subject of ice cream v. ice cream sandwiches?)_

_So instead, I wrote whatever popped into my head. And I've discovered something Lisbon, something about this particular mode of communication. It's not like e-mail (though people will claim that e-mail has replaced the letter). But, an e-mail is easily corrected. You can read an e-mail over after you finish typing it and quickly make any changes you wish. Not so with the written word. Far more permanent. If you realize you've written a sentence in a letter that you didn't wish too, then you have to rewrite the entire thing to remove it. There's far more effort involved. Which means that, as a result, if you do make an error, maybe reveal something you never intended to, that you have to weigh the possible negative consequences of that mistake against the effort required to fix it. And as I said, that effort is much greater with a letter than an e-mail._

_I wonder if that's why those mystery novels you love so much always feature incriminating letters instead of incriminating e-mails. Although, I suppose the latest crop of whodunits probably features electronic communication galore. But that has more to do with the sheer ubiquity of e-mail than anything else, I'd imagine. Letters lend a certain air of mystery to things. They're much subtler. People can be really shockingly indiscreet on the internet sometimes, Lisbon. Sometimes it makes me glad that my typing speed is about ten words per minute._

_It does make me wonder what I might tell you, though. If we continue our correspondence of course. What will I unwittingly reveal on future pages? The idea is an intriguing one, I admit. At least I don't have to worry about you getting my handwriting analyzed, since you apparently don't put much stock in that. Atta' girl Lisbon. Practical to the core. Or so you like people to believe. You and I both know better though, don't we?_

_Speaking of your impractical side, tell Rigsby to bring Connor to visit again. I bet we can convince him Cho's desk is the best to play under a second time. That was entertaining, really broke up the day._

_As it turns out, there's any number of things I could talk to you about in a letter. None of them particularly important of course, but it would appear that I'm reaching the end of my second sheet of paper so I suppose I'll finish here. Any other thoughts will have to be left for another time, or possibly just forgotten (probably for the best). Although you're an easy person to write a letter to Lisbon; you should take that as a compliment._

_But now that my letter is reaching its end, you should go home. If you're reading this, I know your meeting with Wainwright is over. And you looked a bit tired this afternoon. Find something mindless on television and let yourself relax. I'll see you next week, if we don't get a case sooner of course._

_Sincerely,_

_Patrick Jane_

_P.S. I still can't believe you thought I'd leave you out, especially since you were the one I told about my letter-writing plan in the first place. Honestly woman..._

x

Lisbon bit her lip as she refolded her letter. She glanced briefly at the recycling bin in the corner of her office before shaking her head almost imperceptibly and sliding the papers in her bag instead. It was a foolish letter to be sure, but just throwing it out seemed somehow wrong.

Even if Jane's post-script did give her the urge to smack him. Where did he get off being all smug and high and mighty? How on earth was she supposed to know what he was thinking? When it came to stuff like this she'd given up on trying to predict Jane's moods ages ago. It saved both her time and her sanity.

As for his implication that he might be inclined to reveal more than he liked in a letter as opposed to face to face, well, Lisbon could hardly believe that. She was all too aware that Patrick Jane only ever revealed exactly what he wanted to (with a few rare exceptions). She was sure his letters would be no different. And she certainly wouldn't put it past him to rewrite one just to get rid of a stray sentence that he decided he didn't want her to see.

Still, why bother bringing it up? Unless he really had simply written whatever casual thoughts popped into his head. She could hardly believe it, but...

Although, most of the time, Jane's thoughts probably weren't particularly sinister. It would depend on their subject. When his thoughts related to Red John? Certainly sinister. Various aspects of the justice system? Possibly. But most of the time? Probably not. After all, Jane distracted himself with light-hearted fun. It only made sense that his letters would be the same.

Lisbon smirked to herself. On the other hand, her letter of light-hearted fun had contained far more substance than anyone else's.

She knew she shouldn't feel pleased by it, but she did. Jane often had that effect on her.

Rolling her neck along her shoulders briefly, Lisbon got up from her chair and decided to take his advice. She was going home. It was the weekend; the team had just closed a case; she deserved to relax.

She'd think about Jane and his newest _hobby_ later.

xxx

Lisbon walked into the bullpen the next Monday feeling really quite cheerful. A couple of days off really helped clear the mind sometimes.

"Hi guys," she greeted her team, all of whom were just arriving. "Hope everyone had a good weekend."

She received a series of polite affirmative responses from the four people in the room.

"You're in a good mood today, Boss," Rigsby observed.

Lisbon just shrugged. "Why not?" she asked. "It's a beautiful morning. Anyway, we don't have a case, as you know, and Wainwright wants all of the old unsolved case files placed in a new system. So anyone who's not behind on their paperwork gets to do that. If you _are_ behind on your paperwork," Lisbon continued, with a significant look at Rigsby, "Then please, feel free to finish it first."

Jane smirked.

"No time for letter writing then?" Cho asked, his tone revealing nothing.

Lisbon turned towards him, head quirked to the side in silent inquiry.

Van Pelt laughed. "Not that it'd take too long if we wrote letters like the kind Jane gave us all. Which, by the way Jane, my favourite colour is pink, not green or purple. Just so you know."

"And I like ice cream better," Rigsby added. "It comes in more flavours, and anyway, ice cream sandwiches being portable isn't a big thing. You still have to store 'em in a freezer."

Cho blinked at the consultant. "I'm not discussing calligraphy with you," he said firmly.

Jane grinned. "You're all spoilsports, you know that?" he said lightly.

Lisbon wondered briefly if he was slightly disappointed that no one was taking his (admittedly silly) letters at all seriously. She'd certainly doubted any of her team would take the time to reply. Frowning briefly at the thought, Lisbon noticed that Jane had turned towards her and was watching her expectantly.

"Hey Boss," Van Pelt said, before she could ask her consultant what he was looking at. "Did you end up getting a letter?"

Lisbon turned away from Jane to face the younger woman. "As a matter of fact, I did," she said, her tone as dry as possible. "It was certainly _enlightening,"_ she added, taking care to keep her tone casual. For some reason she didn't really want to discuss the contents of her letter, nor did she want to discuss what she'd done with it.

The fact that she'd brought it home with her was bad enough. For some reason, she still hadn't been able to toss the silly thing. At the moment it was sitting in the drawer of her bedside table. And there it would stay, hidden away from her team's idle curiosity. She just needed to make them think she hadn't kept it. Then they wouldn't ask her to read it to them.

As expected, her teammates smiled at her tone, and assumed that she'd gotten exactly the same type of silly letter they had. While her letter hadn't been entirely serious, it hadn't been exactly the same either.

Once she was sure the three agents were at least slightly distracted, Lisbon walked over to Jane's couch. "Since I'm all too aware that you won't be doing any normal paperwork, take a look through this file for me, would you? Technically the case belongs to organized crime, but Wainwright wanted a second opinion."

"As you wish, Lisbon," Jane said agreeably, watching her face closely.

Whatever he saw there seemed to please him, because he suddenly grinned. Before he could say something designed to either make her flustered or embarrassed, Lisbon took to her office. She had work of her own to do after all.

In spite of her best efforts, Lisbon couldn't quite stop her mind from shifting to her consultant from time to time. But it wasn't her fault. She was curious as to whether he'd found a certain handwritten sheet of paper yet.

She'd slipped it into the file herself. And its contents had very little to do with organized crime or the drug trade.

After all, it _was_ considered rude not to answer a letter.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Thank you for the lovely note yesterday. It made for interesting reading. However, seeing as the state's paying us to keep criminals off the streets, if you could see your way clear to doing some actual work today, you know, the stuff we pay you for, that would be great. _

_Yours ever, _

_Lisbon _

_P.S. I can't speak for Rigsby, but for me? Good quality ice cream all the way._

x

Lisbon wasn't sure what she'd expected in response. She'd always known that he probably wouldn't drop by her office the second he found it. Wouldn't want to seem too pleased or anything, not the independent, in control, always-knows-better-than-anyone-else-what's going to happen, Mr. Jane.

Still, Lisbon was surprised when lunchtime rolled around and she still hadn't heard from him about her note. She'd even given him the perfect opportunity to mention it when she'd wandered into the bullpen to ask Rigsby a question about one of his reports.

Jane had just looked up from the file in his hands (the same file she'd given him earlier), and said nothing. Then he'd had the nerve to ask her if there was anything _she_ needed. Insufferable man!

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to enter into Jane's little game in the first place. The others certainly hadn't. And usually when Jane did these sorts of things they were never meant to go anywhere. Just temporary fun.

But for some reason this one had seemed different. Jane had seemed oddly _pleased_ with his idea of writing letters. Most of the letter he'd written her had even been _about_ writing letters! Lisbon just hadn't wanted him to be disappointed if he didn't receive any replies. She was glad she'd taken the two minutes to jot a few lines down, especially since it was obvious no one else on the team had.

Not that she'd written him some sort of soul-revealing epistle obviously, but at least she'd done _something_.

She'd at least thought they'd share a laugh over it.

Oh well.

She should know better than to try and predict how Jane would react to anything.

Lisbon slipped into her office with the salad she'd bought at the cafe down the street.

Van Pelt and Cho had been there already by pure coincidence and asked her to join them. But she had a near-never-ending stack of files to get through, so she'd politely declined and returned to her office.

She picked up the file on the top of said stack and flipped it open.

Only to chuckle to herself when a folded sheet of white paper slipped out.

She really should have known. She really, really should have known.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_While the contents of your letter were not particularly inspiring, I was touched that you took the time to reply at all. No one else on your team bothered to do so. As you know (from all of those old-timey mystery novels of yours), that would have been considered quite rude in generations past, making me wonder if your agents were raised in a barn. Perhaps letter-writing etiquette should be considered as a future topic for one of those staff training sessions you seem so fond of?_

_Just a suggestion of course._

_Although, you might even like the potential session yourself. The spontaneity of the creative process might be good for you._

_-Jane_

_P.S. I always figured you'd side with ice cream (as would any sane person). Still, it's nice to have that confirmed._

x

Lisbon glanced at the actual contents of her file in one hand, and her second letter in the other, weighing her options.

Oh what the hell. She was on her lunch break after all.

Setting the file down, Lisbon grabbed a blank sheet of paper from her printer tray and began to write.

She'd figure out how to slip the sheet to her consultant after. Maybe she'd hide it amongst his couch cushions when he inevitably got bored of looking productive and went off in search of tea.

He always did that at fairly regular intervals.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Thank you for your suggestion for future CBI learning opportunities. You'll understand if I decline to pass it on to upper management on purely practical grounds. Unfortunately, organized staff training sessions are restricted to subjects staff might actually find useful in the workplace, and not whatever happens to strike your fancy on any given day. Try to live with the disappointment_

_And I'll have you know, I can be plenty creative when I want to be._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. What is this sudden fascination with my reading mystery novels? Wouldn't that be something better discussed with Cho?_

x

When Lisbon strolled out to the bullpen an hour or so later to ask Van Pelt if a weird error message was constantly flashing up on her computer too, (and if not what Lisbon was doing to cause it), she noticed Jane on his couch, smirking at her like the cat that caught the canary.

She flushed slightly, before turning to talk to Grace, who appeared to be typing diligently.

"So I guess this means a network error's not flashing up on your screen every ten minutes?" Lisbon asked dryly.

"Oh no, it is," Van Pelt replied. "I already called IT about it. Apparently they're recalibrating the entire network today or something, so there might be a few localized interruptions. I'm just typing fast to try and finish my thought before the next one pops... Damn."

Lisbon winced. "Sorry for distracting you then."

"Van Pelt sighed. "No, it's okay. At least you don't lose data, just your train of thought."

"So there's nothing anyone can do about the problem?" Lisbon asked.

Van Pelt shook her head. "Apparently they're doing it. It's just going to take time."

During the two women's conversation Jane had wandered over. "Want me to take a look?" he asked, placing a friendly hand on Van Pelt's shoulder and bending down to examine the computer screen.

Lisbon looked at him incredulously. "What're you going to do? Try to hypnotize the computer?"

Van Pelt snickered.

Jane turned towards her and attempted to look insulted. "I might know how to solve the problem," he insisted.

"Jane, the last time you tried to look something up in the database you nearly deleted about two dozen records. Luckily the rest of us arrived just in the nick of time to stop you," Lisbon reminded him.

Jane straightened up and placed his hands in his pockets. "Fine. I know when I'm not wanted," he muttered.

"Thanks anyway Jane," Van Pelt told him, obviously trying to soothe ruffled feelings. Lisbon wasn't sure why, given that Jane's feelings weren't actually ruffled in any way, but she wasn't going to point that fact out.

Jane waved a hand in their general direction. "I'll just be here on my couch, waiting for someone to give me a task, reading the odd case file. Don't worry about me."

"We won't," Lisbon assured him. "Anyway, thanks Grace. I guess I'll get back to my office and try to deal with the network."

"Good luck," Van Pelt said sympathetically.

"You to," Lisbon replied with one last glance at Jane, who appeared to have decided to go to sleep. She slipped her hands in her pockets as she walked to her office.

She paused in confusion when she felt something strange, then she figured it out. She smirked and immediately picked up her pace. Jane's sudden interest in the CBI network made far more sense now.

When she reached the relative privacy of her office Lisbon pulled the folded piece of paper from her left jacket pocket. She assumed Jane must have slipped it there when the three of them had been looking at the computer screen.

Unfolding it, Lisbon let herself get a little curious about his latest reply.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I don't think I complimented you in my last letter on your penmanship. Not too many flourishes to be sure, but neat and legible. Sensible, but not stark. Really, all in all, very pleasing. Miss Manners would be proud._

_As for my disappointment with respect to the (shockingly narrow) scope of structured learning available from this organization, well, I was never one for structure anyway. Besides, your correspondence has already gone a long way towards assuaging my hurt feelings on that score._

_Regarding the mystery novels, why wouldn't I be interested? And why on earth would I discuss your taste in mystery novels with Cho? Or was that not what you meant? Anyway, why are you so reticent to discuss it? Nothing wrong with a good mystery novel Lisbon. I've read a few myself. And I rather like the image of you curled up in the chair in the corner of your living room, lost in a case you're certain will get solved. Quite a romantic image, you make, Teresa. Cho hunched over his kitchen table in what I imagine is a rather Spartan apartment doesn't have the same appeal._

_Besides, he's on a Russian literature kick at the moment anyway._

_As always,_

_-Jane_

x

She knew that she shouldn't. She really knew that she shouldn't. She had work to do. She was a responsible adult. She led her own team. She...

She worked long hours all the time with no complaint. She was at the CBI more than almost any other employee. She could take a ten minute break to reply to a note from a colleague.

It was perfectly reasonable.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Okay, you got me. I do like mystery novels. I don't read them all the time. Don't have much time for recreational reading to be honest, but when I do have time they tend to be what I go for._

_And as for my penmanship, I'm afraid I can't take credit. I went to Catholic school. The nuns insisted on a certain degree of competency in that area. Good, plain, legible handwriting was drilled into all of us at a young age. Most of us complied, just to escape the punishment, or the endless lines given out for practice._

_Now I really do have to get back to work._

_-Lisbon_

x

This time Lisbon decided not to go through all the usual rigmarole associated with getting her note to her consultant. Instead, she simply waited to refill her coffee mug until she knew he was making himself some tea and walked to the break room to meet him without the team ten feet away.

Then, when he gallantly picked up the carafe and filled her mug, Lisbon simply slipped her note into the pocket of_ his_ suit jacket.

The way his eyes warmed in her direction was far better reward than the fun she'd have gotten from slipping the note to him in secret.

Although, Lisbon was sure there'd be plenty more opportunity for that later too.

Ducking her head briefly, she took her now full coffee mug from him and spun out of the break room, pausing in the doorway to send him a wink.

She heard his quiet laughter all the way back to her office.

So it was of absolutely no surprise when, at the end of the day, Jane dropped by her office to say goodnight before heading out.

And it was even less surprising when, instead of just exchanging their usual goodbyes coupled with the occasional order to drive safe, Jane dropped a folded sheet of paper on her desk with a wink of his own.

Lisbon waited until he'd left her office to open it.

She figured he was still lurking somewhere, watching her, but she didn't care. She wanted to read her letter. She could live with Jane knowing that.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_No need to speak disparagingly of the nuns. I know as well as you do that you responded to their particular type of no-nonsense instruction rather well. If I'm not mistaken, you were always a bit of a favourite among the Sisters, albeit probably an unspoken one. I'm equally sure no one ever had to "insist on' a degree of competency" from you. You'd always provide that willingly. _

_And we both know you don't only read mystery novels. I know the odd romance gets tucked into your reading list occasionally, when you can make the time. Or when you're in a mood. Nothing wrong with that either. Just please tell me they're not Harlequins. That would certainly be a surprise. I might have to rethink my entire image of you as my responsible team leader..._

_Teasingly,_

_Your lowly consultant_

x

Grinning to herself, Lisbon packed up her things for the night.

She'd figure out Jane's reply tomorrow.

In the meantime, maybe she _was_ in the mood for a romance novel.

xxx

TBC

NO. Large portions of his fic aren't going just to be Jane + Lisbon = PENPALS fun!times. Why do you ask? And NO, I did not decide that I'd better break the chapter here when I realized there were another seven letters in this particular exchange alone... The letters might be spiralling out of control. They're just so much fun to write...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: On with the letters. These ones continue directly from the last chapter. Glad people are enjoying the format so far. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I always appreciate them. I was mildly concerned that the letters wouldn't really make for exciting reading... Also, this fic is actually going to have a plot. It really is. Not sure when I'm actually going to GET TO IT, but... Ahem.

Chapter 3

xxx

The next day, Lisbon arrived at her usual time, only to find Wainwright outside her office waiting for her. It seemed her team had a case. It was a local one though, so at least there wasn't a lot of travelling involved. A member of the Sacramento city council had been found dead in the washrooms at city hall, and the team was to get over there ASAP.

Lisbon promised that the team would head to the scene immediately. She knew everyone would be arriving within the next ten minutes. Except for maybe Jane, but she could always just call him and tell him to meet them at the crime scene.

Wainwright seemed to accept that, only pausing on his way out of her office to point out rather unnecessarily that obviously this case needed to be closed as quickly and with as much delicacy as possible, given the identity of their victim.

Lisbon agreed, mentally rolling her eyes. Sometimes it was hard to take advice from her boss given that he looked like he was about twelve, and she'd been working in law enforcement for longer than that. She was more than aware of the more political elements of her job. Working with Jane meant that she'd had to deal with each and every one on a regular basis.

Speaking of Jane, she'd better give him a call and figure out his ETA.

It turned out Jane was running late, so Lisbon directed him to the crime scene. Then she grabbed her team and they all headed out.

They were all in for a busy morning, meaning answering her mail would have to wait until later.

Lisbon chuckled to herself when she realized that for the first time in a long time, she wasn't referring to her e-mail.

xxx

The case was a bit of a whirlwind of activity right from the start. It was a media circus at the crime scene, then there were meetings with other members of the city council , meetings with the mayor, meetings with the mayor's staff, meetings with their victim's staff, meetings with city lawyers... Really just an endless supply of meetings.

Lisbon felt her patience wearing thin, possibly all the more so because she knew she could never show it.

It also didn't help that Jane seemed to find the whole thing particularly funny.

Lisbon dreaded what he might say to the wrong person.

To her great surprise though, it wasn't the members of council that Jane locked horns with; it was the Sacramento PD.

One of the officers assigned as their liaison had an obvious political slant, and it wasn't in favour of their victim or their current mayor. Lisbon wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten chosen to be their liaison since he was quite possibly the worst person for the job imaginable. She had to assume he either had something on his boss, or he'd been the only one to volunteer and in a moment of stress, his boss hadn't thought the appointment through.

The man was driving Lisbon insane. She'd sent Cho out on the latest errand with him, quite aware that she couldn't take much more of his arrogance, or his mental inflexibility.

But her annoyance was nothing to Jane's.

Except well, Jane wasn't actually annoyed, she didn't think. Oh, her consultant definitely wasn't a fan of Officer Dedham's, not at all. But mostly Jane was using the man's more absurd characteristics to keep himself amused.

Lisbon knew she should rein her consultant in a bit more, and she definitely gave him a warning, but between the mayor's office and Wainwright, she just didn't have the time. She consoled herself that Jane at least wasn't angering the politicians.

And then Dedham decided to really show his true colours, made a couple of particularly insensitive remarks about the victim's daughter, among other things.

That was when Jane took action.

Not long after that, Lisbon was getting a call from an irate chief of police.

Afterwards she sighed, and rested her forehead on her desk. She needed to take five minutes. If she went to talk to Jane now, there was a fairly decent chance she'd punch him in the nose. And while he might deserve it, part of her had to admit, Dedham deserved a little of what he'd gotten too.

Still, she couldn't really let it slide. She'd just have to find a healthy way of releasing some of her frustration with her consultant.

Smirking to herself, Lisbon pulled out a blank sheet of paper. At least now she knew what to say in reply to Jane's last letter.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_You are my lowly consultant, and don't you ever forget it._

_So if you ever send the local cops on a half-day wild goose chase through gridlocked traffic again, just because you're bored and they irritate you, forget about defending you from them, I'm coming over and shooting you myself._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. I'm half tempted to tell you that my romance novels *are* Harlequins. Just to give you the shock you deserve._

x

When she left her office a few minutes later to deliver the note to her consultant, she noticed his couch was conspicuously empty. Lisbon smirked to herself. It seemed that even Jane had some kind of sense of self-preservation. If he stayed out of her way for a little while longer, he might even make it out of this case alive.

She walked over to the couch, sitting down for a second to disguise her true purpose.

Van Pelt shot her a brief but sympathetic look, the guys basically ignored her.

Excellent. Knowing they would think nothing of her being on Jane's couch, she surrepetitiously tucked the note in the couch cushions.

"I don't suppose any of you know where Jane got to?" she asked after a moment.

"Nope," Cho said, answering for all of them. "He ducked out of here pretty quickly and I didn't ask. I'm guessing he's gone to find some clue to the case to present you with so you don't rip his head off the next time you see him."

"Did he really send Dedham on a wild goose chase around the entire city?" Rigsby asked curiously.

"Apparently Dedham circled the city twice before he realized what was going on," Lisbon confirmed.

Rigsby smirked.

"Our local liaison's not the sharpest tool in the shed," Cho observed.

Lisbon attempted to glare. "Dedham's intelligence is irrelevant to this discussion. We have to treat our local colleagues with respect," she told her agents. "That's part of our job in this unit, working with the locals."

"Tell that to Jane," Rigsby replied.

Lisbon stood up. "I will, when I see him. Alright, I've gotta go call the mayor. He wants hourly updates."

Her team winced in sympathy.

Lisbon trudged back to her office. This case was really starting to wear on her last nerve.

xxx

Another phone call to the mayor, another meeting with Wainwright, another update from her team, Lisbon was seriously wishing the case had just been something simple, like a shooting in a state park Turned out city councils could be full of more backstabbing and bad feeling that even the most dysfunctional of families.

Jane informed her it was because they had an inflated sense of their own importance, thankfully not in front of any of the council members at least.

But she was also inclined to be less annoyed with her consultant because he'd bought her some of the good coffee from the little cart on the corner.

And she didn't notice it until after he flitted out of her office, but he'd tucked a small sheet of paper inside the circular piece of cardboard meant to prevent the drinker's hand from getting burned on the coffee cup.

Leaning back in her chair, Lisbon pried it free, wondering what he had to say in response to her last letter. After all, she snickered. Jane didn't always react well to her threats...

x

_Dear Lisbon, _

_Threatening murder, Teresa? Tsk. Tsk. What would Sister Mary-Francis say?_

_Although, I thought you'd approve of my methods today dear. They gave you a few Dedham-free hours, and isn't that a plus in anyone's book?_

_-Apparently still lowly,_

_Jane_

_P.S. You may have implied that your reading preferences don't include Harlequin romances in your last note, but now I'm no longer sure I trust you, you fiendish woman. Who knows what you might do just to set me off-balance._

x

Lisbon stared at the paper, torn between shock at the first half and an insane desire to smile like an idiot from the post script.

This time she didn't even bother trying to come up with a justification for replying quickly. There were certain things that needed to be replied to immediately. This was one of them.

Grabbing another sheet of paper from her printer, Lisbon wondered briefly if she should buy some notepaper. Really get into the spirit of things. Jane would like that...

Then she shook her head, and turned to the task at hand.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Sister Mary-Francis? What the HELL? Have you been snooping through my old school yearbooks online or something? Because that's creepy, even for you._

_And how I feel about Dedham is irrelevant. We have to maintain good ties with the locals. You KNOW that. Could you please try not to piss anyone else off today? If it's not too much to ask..._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. I guess you'll just have to trust me when it comes to my reading preferences. Sorry you opened this can of worms in the first place now?_

x

Tapping her pen on the desk, Lisbon wondered how to get this note to her troublesome consultant. She supposed she could just hand it to him. They were both well aware that she'd be replying to his letter, but she didn't want to make it obvious. For one, the direct approach didn't seem right. It seemed far too much like a reward, like she wasn't mad at him for his completely unacceptable behaviour. Which she wasn't of course, well, not really mad anyway.

But Jane didn't need to know that.

She knew he probably did know already, but she wasn't going to make this any easier for him than she had to for him.

Lisbon continued tapping her pen. There was no way she could slip into his pocket without him noticing. That would never work. She'd already handed him one in a file. There were only so many places Jane regularly went over the course of a day...

That thought gave her an idea. Smirking to herself, Lisbon ducked out of her office and headed towards the break room.

xxx

A couple hours later, she and Jane had just arrived back at the CBI after an interview their dead council member's ex-boyfriend. Jane had been his usual self with the man, prodding and poking and generally saying inappropriate things, but in the end he had managed to confirm that the ex-boyfriend was likely not responsible at least.

And he'd even had the good sense to steer clear of the Sacramento PD, for which Lisbon was quite grateful.

Although that might have been because she'd been trying to be a little bit cool with him, show him that she wasn't entirely pleased with how he'd handled things. She wasn't sure it was having any effect.

They stepped onto the elevator together. "So," Lisbon said. "If it's not the ex-boyfriend, who do you think it was?"

Jane smirked. "Really Lisbon? You don't know yet?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think _you_ know," she countered. "I think you're just messing with me."

She watched his smile widen. "Reverse psychology won't work on me. You should know that."

"That wasn't reverse psychology," she said with a slight shrug. "That was a statement of fact."

Jane frowned almost imperceptibly.

"I _don't_ think you know," Lisbon repeated. "I think you might have an idea of how to catch whoever did it. But I don't think you have any idea who the killer actually is."

Jane spun her until she was facing him, he searched her expression, obviously trying to figure out if she was telling the truth.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm about 72% sure it's the secretary," he said finally.

Lisbon smirked as the elevator doors opened. She sauntered out, spinning around to face him again. "Hey Jane," she said playfully. "Don't look now, but I think I just used reverse psychology on you after all."

With two large steps he was right in front of her again, the elevator doors closed behind him. "I _let_ you do that," he told her, his voice low.

Lisbon smiled affectionately. "If that's what you have to tell yourself..."

"It's not what I _tell_ myself," Jane repeated calmly. "It's the truth. But you can feel free to look as pleased as you like. I don't mind."

Lisbon cocked her head to the side, unsure what to make of his response exactly. "Don't you?" she asked.

Jane moved slightly closer, crowding her just a little. "No," he told her, still smiling. Then, to Lisbon's surprise, he took her hand and turned it palm up between them. Before she could even open her mouth to ask him what in the hell he thought he was doing, he'd pulled a slip of paper folded into a pyramid out of his vest pocket and set it onto her open palm.

She bit her lip to prevent a whoosh of laughter from escaping. She could see Jane was holding his own laughter in his eyes.

"Now, I have to go finalize my plan to catch one guilty little secretary, but I'm sure I'll be seeing you later," he told her. Then with a tap of his fingers against her wrist, he slipped past her, obviously on his way to his couch.

A second later, Lisbon spun on her heels and headed to her office, but not before glancing around her to make sure no one had noticed their little exchange. She wasn't sure why, but she wasn't quite ready to share her letters. Not yet, at least.

Once at her desk, she unfolded her little pyramid.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Don't be silly. There was no snooping involved, just a guess. There's *always* a sister Mary-Francis._

_However, I'm not going to discuss Dedham with you in these letters. I have no desire to sully our correspondence with that little worm. Also, I don't feel like making you irritated with me again._

_On the other hand, I can assure you that I have no regrets whatsoever in our discussion of your reading preferences. Why on earth would I regret new information on that front?_

_-Jane_

_P.S. Tucking my letter in with my teabags was an inspired choice, dear. I was getting worried that you were too irritated with me to reply._

x

Lisbon toyed with the edges of her letter.

Damn that man and his charm.

She was supposed to be angry with him still. He'd really caused quite a lot of inconvenience for the SacPd, and for no good reason whatsoever. The Chief of Police and Wainwright were both still peeved about the whole thing. Oh sure, it'd blow over eventually, but... but...

Part of her still felt like she should be firmer with him about these sorts of things.

But on the other hand, writing letters was kind of fun. If anyone asked, she'd justify it as stress relief.

Before she could change her mind, Lisbon opened her bottom drawer to grab her notebook since her printer was running low on paper, only to find a box of strawberries tucked in the drawer.

She sighed.

Really, really damn that man.

Giving into the inevitable, Lisbon tore a page from her notebook and began to write.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I suppose you're right about Sister Mary-Francis. You know how it is. Only so many Saint's names…_

_If you don't regret discussing book preferences, does that mean I can ask you about yours? What does the great Patrick Jane read in his spare time then? Apart from Sherlock Holmes, obviously._

_And thank you for the strawberries. _

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. I'm still mad at you though._

x

Then she handed it to him when he came to get her and he needed her help wrangling the secretary into confessing. (Well, he claimed he needed her to come so she could arrest the secretary. Lisbon chose to take it as Jane needing her help.)

Lisbon thought about making him squirm for a second time that day about whether or not he was getting a letter, but she figured her finger tips being stained slightly pink from strawberry juice would give her away anyway.

If Jane noticed, he didn't say anything. Just took the proffered paper from her, and gravely tucked into his vest pocket.

"For safekeeping," he assured her.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but didn't object. If he wanted to save her letter for later, when their case was (hopefully) solved, well, that was his prerogative.

xxx

When Lisbon arrived back in her office after informing Wainwright that the secretary had confessed and the case was closed, Lisbon was absolutely expecting to see the letter she found tucked under her keyboard.

She would have been more disappointed than she cared to admit if it hadn't been there.

Luckily it was, so she didn't have to think about any of that.

Picking it up, she walked over to her couch, deciding to let herself really get comfortable.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Although, oddly enough, no one ever chooses to be Sister Hezekiah. I suppose that's because they're nuns, not idiots._

_As for my reading preferences, I don't read much for pleasure, Lisbon. Not as much as I possibly should at least. When I do get the chance, well, I've been working through some of the classics for the last few decades. I see no reason to stop now._

_-Jane_

_P.S. And you're welcome. Although, I wouldn't dream of implying that my gift of strawberries sweetened your temper towards me in any way, dear. I can assure you that they weren't meant as a bribe. I just happened to be driving by the stand and saw that the strawberries looked fresh. That's all._

x

Lisbon grinned to herself as she read the note. That was all indeed. There was no way that even Jane would have been able to tell if strawberries looked fresh if he'd been simply _driving_ by.

The big fraud.

She supposed she could tell him that in her next letter, but she didn't want to. The case was closed now, and successfully too. She could be the bigger person, let bygones be bygones.

She'd just have to think of something else to write to Jane about.

She wasn't worried about finding something to talk (or rather write) to Jane about though. It'd come to her. It always did.

As Lisbon expected, she found a subject for a note to Jane just before the end of the day.

x

_Dear Jane, _

_Do you miss reading? You should make time for it. Hobbies are good for people. Who knows, maybe it would even help you with your insomnia. I know I've certainly read a few classics that almost put me to sleep..._

_Also, do you know why Rigsby's glancing frantically at the entryway ever few minutes?_

_-Lisbon_

xxx

She slipped Jane the note on her way to discuss the exact wording of their suspect's confession with Cho.

She was unsurprised when he ducked out of the room a few minutes later.

It seemed Patrick Jane was looking forward to these notes too.

Strolling back to her office, Lisbon started packing up her files. After the final bit of clarification from Cho the case was really and truly closed.

She dawdled over her file, realizing suddenly that she wasn't ready to leave yet. And there was a very specific reason for that.

Lisbon sighed. She might be getting too involved in this foolish little game with Jane.

Except, what was the harm? Her productivity wasn't suffering. They were both enjoying it. It was completely innocent. And really, anything that kept Jane from brooding had to be a good thing, right?

She would not feel guilty about this. It was relaxing. It was fine.

And if she was stalling going home, what of it? It's not like she had an exciting evening planned. Takeout in front of the TV could wait a half an hour if need be.

Happily, it was only ten minutes later, and not half an hour when Jane reappeared in her office.

"So you're using me as a mole to spy on your agents now, are you Teresa?" he asked neutrally.

She saw through the act immediately. "Don't be ridiculous Jane," she ordered. "I just thought you might know is all. Seeing as Rigsby's still acting like a scared rabbit."

"I think you'll find your answer here," he told her gravely, handing her a note.

Lisbon took it from him, surprised when he stayed in her office, rocking on his heels. "You could just tell me, you know," she said dryly.

Jane shrugged. "I already wrote it down. Don't worry, I'll wait."

Lisbon shook her head, but unfolded her note as he asked.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Always looking out for my well-being aren't you? Trying to make me a healthier person. You've a long road ahead of you if that's your goal. To answer your question though, I don't know if I miss the reading or not to be honest. I really only started with the classics to pick up on the things I missed from my education, if you could call it that. Every so often I do crack a book. I'll have to think about your question more thoroughly later. If I do decide to take up reading again regularly, I'll be sure to ask you for your recommendations._

_As for Rigsby's skittish behaviour, well, my guess is that Sarah's dropping by tonight. With Connor (which alas, means not a lot of time for attempting to bother Cho). I think Rigsby wants to say hello first, before bringing them in to see everyone else._

_Your informant,_

_Jane_

_P.S. If we're going to continue on with this subterfuge, do I need a code name?_

x

Lisbon looked up hopefully. "Connor's coming?"

Jane grinned. "I think so."

"Oh."

"I'm sure Sarah will be thrilled at how excited you are for _her _arrival," Jane pointed out.

Lisbon flushed slightly. "Of course I'll be glad to see Sarah too," she insisted. "She's good for Wayne."

"She is. But don't worry Lisbon. Parents of small children are well used to being secondary attractions," Jane said wistfully.

Lisbon opened her mouth to say, well, she wasn't sure what.

Before she could figure it out, Jane waved her off. "Don't worry about it, Lisbon."

She shut her mouth, only to open it again. "You know, reading your letter with you standing right in front of me means that I won't have anything to say in reply tomorrow."

Jane grinned, glad for the change in subject. "You're a clever woman," he assured her. "You'll think of something."

Lisbon grinned back. Then she noticed something in the bullpen. "I think Sarah and Connor are here."

Jane chuckled. "Nice to know where I fall in your affections, Teresa."

She swatted him in the arm.

"Come on," Jane said with a laugh, taking her arm and leading her into the bullpen to see her favourite two-year old.

xxx

As it turned out, the next morning Lisbon wasn't the one to start their correspondence.

Midmorning she found a note tucked under her keyboard.

x

_Dear Lisbon, _

_Have you seen my tea?_

_-Jane_

x

She laughed and tore a page off the pad of paper on her desk. It was an easy reply, after all. Noting that Jane for once, wasn't on his couch, she went out and immediately tucked her answer under one of the cushions.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Yes I have. _

_-Lisbon_

x

Less than forty minutes later, she found an answer in a folder Van Pelt dropped off at her office. She assumed Jane had slipped it in there when the redhead wasn't paying attention.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Where is it? If you don't mind telling me._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon tore a second piece of paper off of the pad, really enjoying herself now. She deliberately slipped the second note to Jane in the hallway fifteen minutes later.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Telling you where it is would defeat the purpose of hiding it._

_-Lisbon_

x

Lisbon wasn't sure what she expected in reply, but a note taped to her computer monitor when she got back from her lunch wasn't on the top of the list.

x

_Evil Woman,_

_You. Hid. MY. Tea!_

_What? Why?_

_And you are aware that this means war._

_-Jane_

x

Far from intimidated, Lisbon calmly pulled out her pad of paper to write her third note of the day.

x

_Dear Trouble,_

_I'm trying a new technique of getting you to listen when I tell you things. I don't expect you to obey my every request, but I do expect you to consider some of them. Let's say as an estimate, at least 20%._

_And even you're not foolish enough to declare war on me, Patrick._

_-Lisbon_

x

She proceeded to tuck her reply in the same place in his couch cushions when the rest of the team left for lunch.

The fact that he was currently sleeping on them didn't dissuade her from her mission in the slightest.

Jane opened his eyes to send her a mock glare.

Lisbon sent him an arch look in reply, and gestured to her hiding spot.

Jane scowled, but opened her letter anyway.

She didn't stay to watch him read it. She knew she'd be hearing from him soon. In fact, she decided to get a fresh cup of coffee to give him time to leave a reply in her empty office.

He didn't disappoint her. She found his answer under one of her picture frames.

x

_Dear my most respected opponent,_

_If I go to that stupid seminar Wainwright wants me to, will you stop hiding my tea?_

_-Jane_

_P.S. Just out of curiosity Teresa, what makes you so sure that I wouldn't declare war on you? I'm a worthy opponent myself you know._

x

Lisbon shook her head, almost ashamed of the amount of fun she was having. Before she could reply, her boss dropped in.

So unfortunately her response was delayed a few minutes.

x

_Dear Renewed Ally,_

_Wainwright stopped by. He was thrilled you'd agreed to speak at the seminar. Don't pout. It's only forty-five minutes._

_Your tea's in the coffee can by the way._

_And as for why you wouldn't declare war on me, you wouldn't last a month around here without me. Also, if you ever tried anything, I'd have your couch positively shredded._

_-Lisbon_

x

Jane wasn't on his couch when she dropped off the note. Probably deliberately, Lisbon guessed. Showing his displeasure, or something.

His reply showed up in her office an hour later, even if she didn't actually see the man himself.

x

_Dear Machiavelli,_

_It would appear you have backed me into a corner. I will agree to consider a percentage of your requests (to be determined later) if you promise to leave my couch in peace._

_Particularly since I have no desire to start a war when the outcome would be, at best, a pyrrhic victory._

_For now then, a détente._

_-Jane_

_P.S. I can't believe you contaminated my tea with your coffee. You're a cruel mistress Teresa. I pray your mercy, truce._

x

Lisbon was more than willing to declare a truce. Really, if Jane would just do simple things when they were asked of him, none of this would be necessary. The request certainly hadn't been out of line.

Of course, if Jane had conceded, he wouldn't be Jane.

And there was a certain element of fun to the battle too.

Lisbon grinned to herself, noticing he was back on his couch for the evening. She had a feeling she knew just how to make it up to him.

Twenty minutes later, she was perched on the same armrest where she'd been slipping his notes all day. She waited for Jane to open his eyes.

When he did, she handed him a cup of tea. After he took it with a smile, she produced a new box of his favourite specialty tea from behind her back.

He chuckled, accepting her peace offering with pleasure, and sitting up leaving her room to sit behind him.

Lisbon settled into the offered space, curling up in the corner of the couch and picking up her own mug of tea.

Sometimes a battle could be stimulating, but really, she'd take renewed alliance any day.

xxx

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sooo... word of warning, so it's not completely unexpected. This fic is eventually not going to be 100% fluff. I will continue to keep it mostly light (and this chapter is pretty much all silliness), but I'm discovering that I may be incapable of writing a multichapter for these two that is all fluff. Just FYI.

xxx

Chapter 4

xxx

The letters continued to flow fast and furious between agent and consultant.

Some days more so than other, obviously. They weren't all seven-letter days, for example. Some days there wasn't really time for letters. Some days they wrote a dozen short ones. The average was probably close to two or three. Not that Lisbon had actually done the math.

But contrary to Lisbon's expectations when she entered into Jane's little game, even if the rate of letters slowed down from time to time, their correspondence persevered. She had to admit, Jane was right (though she'd yet to tell him so), there was _something_ about letter-writing. It was different than e-mail, different even than talking to a person. It was so, so... uninterrupted.

Obviously that fact didn't matter if you were writing a quick, two-sentence note. But sometimes their letters were longer. You got the chance to write out a whole thought without someone interrupting you. Not that Jane usually interrupted her when she was talking to him, but... But... Well, it was different was all.

Lisbon smirked when she pulled her newest note out from where it was poking up from under her keyboard.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Are we carpooling to court today, or do I have to get myself there?_

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon chuckled. It amused her that Jane, along with the longer letters they wrote to each other, had started using letters in the same way that everyone else used e-mail. Of course, like almost everything else he did, it suited him. After all, pretty much everything else about the man was unique.

Lisbon reached into her drawer and grabbed a sheet of note paper, noticing at the same time that she was running low and would have to get more soon. Maybe she'd stop by the stationary store on her way home from work. It would depend how late she ended up staying.

After mentally filing that piece of information in her memory, Lisbon un-capped her pen and started writing a quick reply.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_That depends. I was thinking we'd carpool. It certainly makes sense to carpool. But I'm not driving with you if you're just going to slink off and ditch me afterwards because something shiny catches your eye._

_-Lisbon_

x

Lisbon strolled out to the bullpen and slipped the note in the now habitual spot in the couch cushions. She was pretty sure Cho had caught her at it once or twice, but she was equally sure that he'd never mention anything about it. Jane himself was on the couch, but didn't stir. Lisbon knew he wouldn't move to read the letter until he was sure she was back in her office.

After hiding her message, she headed back to her office to hopefully get some paperwork done before the two of them were due to be in court.

It was barely fifteen minutes later when Jane slipped into her office, placed a single folded sheet of paper on her desk, and slipped out.

Lisbon didn't even look up until she heard the door close behind him. That was part of the game.

But the second the latch clicked shut, her fingers were busy opening her note.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_First of all, I do not "slink." Second of all, I abandoned you at the courthouse once. ONCE. And no, that is not an invitation for you to list all of the times I've "abandoned" you in other places. Which, by the way, I also almost always leave you the car whenever circumstances make it necessary for me to pursue alternative inquiries alone. And for another thing, the one time I left you (temporarily) at the court house (again, the ONE time, you have the memory of an elephant when it comes to things like this, dear), I did have rather important business involving making sure an innocent women didn't get found guilty of murder. I'm sorry if that interfered with our lunch plans, Lisbon. I really am._

_So how about this for a compromise, as long as there aren't significant extenuating circumstances involving a potential matter of life and death, I promise not to "abandon" you at the courthouse this afternoon._

_Now can we ride together? It'll save on parking._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon immediately took another sheet of paper from the drawer beside her. After all, the outcome of the conversation was time sensitive. The issue needed to be resolved before they had to be in court at one.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Alright, if you promise not to just wander off on me, I suppose we can ride together. (Although, I don't think you get to act all high and mighty about the whole thing. You have no idea how frustrating it is to go somewhere with a person, then turn around and find that they've just disappeared. Again.)_

_Wanna go for lunch at the new Thai place around the corner from the courthouse before we're set to appear? I've heard it's really good. And if we go to eat before appearing in court, you're less likely to disappear on me._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. You're one to talk about people never forgetting anything. I've never met anyone as capable as remembering every little thing as you are. It's annoying sometimes._

x

Seeing that Jane was on his way back from the break room, Lisbon hurried out of her office so she could catch him on the way by and slip the note into his jacket pocket. She didn't know why, but it'd become her favourite method of delivery.

It wasn't the subterfuge. He always knew when she was doing it after all. But maybe that was why she liked it. The little twinkle of complicity in his eyes whenever she slipped past him.

It was fun.

She liked to think she was getting smoother at it too, at dropping the letter into his pocket as she whisked by, ever-so-slightly closer to him than she normally would be. It was a delicate balancing act, close enough to drop the paper into Jane's pocket without making it obvious what she was doing to passersby, but not too close that the two of them aroused suspicion, or she crashed into him.

A collision in the hallway would definitely get people's attention, Lisbon mused as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She lingered in the break room, taking her time with the coffee. Not because she wanted to savour the activity or because she thought it might produce a better cup of coffee, but because she knew that if she was out of her office for long enough, there'd be a letter for her on her desk when she got back.

And there was.

Lisbon sat down and pulled her letter-opener from her drawer. She quite liked the little tool. It was rather pretty, old-fashioned looking with a pearl-coloured handle. It'd just turned up on her desk one morning, sitting on a letter. Not that her correspondent had mentioned anything about it in the accompanying note, but then, Lisbon hadn't really expected him to.

With Jane, she was never surprised when things just, popped up. Especially since it had happened the very morning after she'd bought her note paper.

Lisbon slipped her letter-opener back in her drawer carefully and began to read.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Ah, so that's what really bothers you about my abandoning you at the court house. I interrupted your lunch. I sometimes forget how touchy you are about people getting in the way of your food, Teresa. I'll keep that in mind in future._

_Of course I would like to go to lunch with you before we're called to testify. Thai sounds lovely. I haven't had a good green curry in quite some time, not since the place that used to be around the corner from this building closed down. We'll have to see if new restaurant lives up to the hype._

_Although, does this mean we can't go to the tea room afterwards? It's becoming a bit of a tradition after all, and they have the best scones..._

_-Jane_

_P.S. Yes, my memory is good. But yours is nothing to sneeze at. I've long known that there's more to you than meets the eye. Still waters run deep, etc. etc._

x

Lisbon shook her head over his next to last line. She'd forgotten about Jane's not so secret love of the tea room two blocks from the courthouse. He pretended that he was indifferent whether they stopped by or not, often just telling her that he only wanted to because it was 'tradition.' But Lisbon was more than aware of the truth of the matter.

Well, she supposed she could indulge him, just this once.

Slipping another piece of note paper from her drawer, Lisbon again began to write.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Oddly enough, some people don't like having their food stolen on them or their meals delayed. And they get hungry after they've been sitting in court rooms for hours waiting to testify for a grand total of ten minutes at most. And those same people also don't like it when the people disrupting and/or stealing their meals are the cause of the delay in the first place._

_Why don't we leave for lunch at about quarter to twelve then, just to make sure we're not late? _

_Do you mean the tea room with the really good gelato? If you manage not to irritate the judge too much today (by which I mean, if you don't get thrown in jail for contempt of court; I am not bailing you out again), then we can go to the tea room after._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. Oh, hush with your nonsense._

x

Lisbon was about to wander out to deliver her letter in one of the usual ways, when to her surprise, Jane came to her. He walked into her office, smiled at her, took the folded letter from her hand and left the way he'd come without a word.

Lisbon blinked in surprise, and then shrugged. After all, why not just go with it?

She was even less disposed to question Jane's methods when he was back less than ten minutes later, sliding another letter across her desk.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Quarter to twelve it is then. I'll meet you by the elevators._

_Also, I don't know why you bother with your idle threats. You'd always help bail me out._

_Especially since I'm going to offer to buy you a hazelnut gelato at the tea room, as an apology for my apparent past food-related offences towards you._

_See you at the elevators._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon shook her head over her letter. Then she glanced at the clock.

All of a sudden Jane's recent behaviour to speed up the rate of their letters made sense. It was almost twenty to twelve. She was due to meet him for lunch any minute now. Which meant that letter-writing was probably done for the day.

Lisbon stretched as she stood up from her desk. That was okay though. Lunch would probably more than make up for it.

And even if it didn't, gelato definitely would.

xxx

A few days later, Lisbon was on her way to the mail room to pick up her mail. It was funny, but ever since she'd started exchanging letters with Jane, she'd been looking at her mail in a whole new light. Even if none of it was ever actually letters. Especially not in her CBI mailbox, Lisbon mused. "Hi Brad," she said, walking up. She liked getting her mail when Brad was working the desk. His smile was worth the minor scheduling effort.

Brad was smiling now, she noticed happily. "Hi there Agent Lisbon," he said cheerfully. "How're you?"

She shrugged. "Oh, can't complain," she replied as he handed her her mail. "And you?"

Brad glanced down. "For the most part everything's good. It's just, well... actually, you might be able to help me with this. My girlfriends' birthday's coming up, and I really want to surprise her. Do you have any ideas where we could go for dinner? Some place nice, I want to make it special."

Lisbon smiled. "Actually," she said. "A friend of mine's just opened up this great little restaurant on the other side of town. It's not too big, but it's not really small either. You could get enough people in for a decent party. I can e-mail you the contact information if you want."

"No!" Brad said quickly, to Lisbon's surprise.

When she looked up sharply, he blushed.

"What I mean is," he told her. "Alice might see the e-mail. Could you maybe just write it down and slip me the information?" he asked.

Lisbon chuckled. "Of course," she told him. "I just have to go find it in my office, but I'll be back down later to slip it in your pocket."

"If you can manage," he taunted fairly brazenly Lisbon thought. She kept her cool.

"Oh, Jane's taught me a few things," she said ambiguously, knowing what horrors that would conjure up. Jane's abilities were well known and at least half feared.

Brad smiled. "Alright, well, just come drop it off if you find it. I really appreciate this, Agent Lisbon."

"No problem," Lisbon replied with a wave as she headed back up to her office.

It only took her about ten minutes to find the information for her friend's restaurant, and she decided to deliver it right away. Even if they were very nearly the only two people in the mail room at the moment, Lisbon made a big show of surreptitiously slipping brad the piece of paper. Since he worked in the mail room his girlfriend, who also worked in the building, would never suspect that he was carrying around a letter. All of the practice Lisbon had had slipping notes into Jane's pockets made her part in the ceremony particularly smooth. Lisbon was pleased with the outcome.

Turned out this exchanging letters with her consultant had side benefits.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Lisbon realized that she hadn't actually heard from Jane himself in a while. He hadn't answered the letter she'd wrote him that morning. And she happened to know for a fact that he wasn't busy. Which meant that he just wasn't writing to her.

She sighed, vaguely disappointed.

Then she paused.

Actually, it was more than that. Not only had Jane not written back to her, but he'd been acting huffy with her all afternoon. She glanced out in the bullpen, noticing he wasn't on his couch. And she hadn't seen him go by her office on his way to the break room to make tea. Which meant that there was really only one place he could be.

Lisbon stood up abruptly and resolutely headed up to the attic. She was going to find out what was wrong with her consultant.

She opened the door slowly, unsurprised when she saw him lying on his makeshift bed. Whenever he did come up here, laying down was usually a good bet. "Jane, what's the matter?" Lisbon asked gently.

He didn't look at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She squared her shoulders, realizing Jane was in the mood to be difficult. She decided to call him on it. "Yes you do."

Other then the slightest tightening of his jaw, there was next to no reaction from her consultant, who continued speaking in the same irritatingly condescending tone. "I don't. But you seem to think something's wrong, so why don't you tell me what it is then."

"Damn it Jane!" Lisbon said in frustration. All his evasions had done was confirm that something was wrong and she really wanted to know what it was. Maybe she could help

Jane tutted critically, "Such language, Teresa."

She decided to ignore him again, and went directly to the heart of the problem. "You've been acting odd all afternoon. Now are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to make me guess?"

"Guessing won't get you very far, since I've told you there's nothing wrong," Jane continued, his tone still carefully even.

But Lisbon was getting better at reading his tells now, well, she was pretty sure she was. His tone was too even. He was too still. Tamping down on her irritation, she reminded herself that a direct confrontation was almost never the way to go with Jane. Time for something subtler.

She nudged his arm over slightly, and sat down next to him on his makeshift bed in the attic. "Patrick," she said softly, well aware that pulling the first name card was playing slightly dirty

His eyelids fluttered almost imperceptibly, which Lisbon took as a hopeful sign, and meant that she should continue.

Then she sighed, not really sure how to start. Especially since she didn't even have the slightest idea what was wrong. "You don't have to tell me what's bothering you if you don't want to. I'm not going to force you, but I thought... I thought..." She trailed off, trying to find the words.

Jane prompted her grudgingly. Lisbon supposed her uncharacteristic hesitation had wakened his curiosity. "You thought_ what,_ Teresa?" he asked, his tone harsher than she'd been expecting after the carefully modulated words before.

Lisbon's breath caught in her throat, but she ploughed on anyway. "I thought that you wanted to talk more," she said softly. "Or I guess, not really talk but... something. Wasn't that, wasn't that the point... with the letters I mean..."

Jane's eyes popped open in accusation. "Ah yes, _the letters_," Jane said. "You've taken quite a liking to letter-writing, haven't you Teresa?"

Lisbon blinked, feeling more than a little hurt. She covered it with anger. After all, he needn't take that tone with her. She hadn't been the only one of them to enjoy the letter writing. If Jane had a bee in his bonnet over it now, how on earth was that her fault? "Well, so have you. I've been writing to someone all this time."

"Hm," Jane hummed noncommittally. "Now tell me, what does Brad from the Mail Room think of letter-writing."

His question confused her. "Well, his job is somewhat dependent on letter-volume, so I'd guess he's all for it."

"_You'd guess?" _Jane mocked slightly.

Lisbon frowned. "Yeah..."

Jane chuckled softly to himself, but there was very little humour in the sound. "You haven't asked him?"

"Uh, no?" Lisbon said slowly, wondering what he was talking about. Had Jane expected her to conduct research into the popularity of letter writing along with actually writing him letters? It made no sense.

"Oh, it hasn't come up, I suppose," Jane pressed.

"No, it hasn't," Lisbon replied in near total confusion. Brad from the mail room didn't really strike her as the letter-writing type after all. And between asking about his day and his weekend plans, oddly enough she hadn't saw the need to slip in a question about his writing-habits. "I mean, I pass him in the halls, maybe in the break room, or when I go pick up my mail... We don't really have a lot of conversations about how he feels about letter-writing, Jane."

Jane harrumphed derisively. "Your conversations don't sound like they have a lot of substance then, Lisbon."

"No, I don't suppose they do," Lisbon agreed. Why should they? He was Brad the mail room guy. Certainly good looking, friendly and very nice. But he was also not the smartest guy in the room. Which was fine, but, well, Lisbon had found early on that the two of them didn't have a whole heck of a lot of common ground beyond the usual small talk. Which was perfectly fine with her. It certanly didn't stop her from enjoying his smile from time to time.

Apparently for Jane it was an issue though, since her consultant was really laying into poor, defenceless Brad now. "And that doesn't bother you? So what is it then? His penmanship?"

Lisbon felt completely at sea. Odd conversations with Jane were the norm, but this was extreme, even for him. "I really wouldn't know. I don't think I've ever seen his penmanship. The only time we've ever even..." Then the light bulb went on in her brain. She stared flabbergasted at the man in front of her. She wouldn't have believed it was possible, but it was the only explanation that made even the slightest amount of sense.

"The only time you've what?" Jane prompted, definitely sounding irritated now.

Lisbon let out a whoosh of laughter and got on her feet. "Stand up," she ordered.

"What?" Lisbon took a minute to enjoy the look of surprise on his face.

"Humour me, you idiot. Stand up," she ordered a second time with a grin.

Jane frowned, "I'm comfortable."

"You're not," Lisbon contradicted affectionately. He really was a child sometimes.

"Yes I am," Jane insisted stubbornly.

She tried logic, "You're lying on a board."

"A comfortable board," he insisted.

Then she sighed, getting a little sick of this game. "Jane..."

"Lisbon..."

She closed her eyes briefly, "Please. Please Patrick, just trust me this once."

She could see him weighing his options; just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, and she felt her heart sinking into her stomach, Jane sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the door. She waited patiently as he made a big show of stretching before grudgingly getting to his feet.

"There, Happy now?" he muttered. "Now what was suddenly so important that..."

Instead of answering him, Lisbon closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not even realizing it was the first time she'd ever initiated one of their rare hugs.

Jane stilled completely.

"Brad from the mail room wants to surprise his girlfriend in two weeks," Lisbon murmured. "You've met Alice. She's an admin assistant downstairs. Anyway, iIt's her birthday. He wants to throw her a surprise party and he wants it to be a complete surprise so there's not supposed to be a hint of anything about it in his e-mail in-box since apparently she sees his e-mail sometimes. Anyway, I have a friend who owns a restaurant on the other side of town that would be perfect for what he wants, so I slipped him the information today in the mail room. We were a bit sneaky since Alice works in the building. I gave him a piece of paper with the contact information. Slipped it in his pocket, which I admit, I got that idea from _our _letters. But Brad's secret message only had an address, name and phone number written on it."

Lisbon felt Jane's hands slide around her waist. "I'm not sure why you're telling me any of this," he said weakly.

"Because I think you saw me slip Brad the piece of paper," Lisbon told him.

"So?" he asked, still trying to sound nonchalant.

She grinned. "I'm not in the middle of a secret correspondence with Brad from the mail room, Jane."

"I didn't think you were," he denied immediately.

"Of course not."

"I didn't."

"And I agreed," Lisbon reminded him cheerfully.

She felt him sigh softly against her hair. "Okay, maybe I did."

She nodded, "And you got jealous, which is just ridiculous by the way."

"First of all, I was not jealous," Jane insisted. "And second of all, even if I was, it wouldn't be ridiculous. How would you like it if I started writing to Van Pelt?"

Now it was Lisbon's turn to stiffen slightly. "You're more than welcome to write to Van Pelt, if you like," she said primly after a moment. "In fact, I believe you have," she added in a lighter tone.

She felt him smile against her hair, bastard. "Once."

"Exactly," she replied.

She felt Jane pull back so that he could tip her chin up to meet her eyes. "I'm not going to start writing to Van Pelt, Teresa."

"Alright, whatever," Lisbon muttered with a shrug, unsure when she'd managed to completely lose control of the conversation. "I don't care one way or another. It's none of my business. So if you wanted to..."

"I don't," Jane assured her. "And I'm not going to start writing to Cho, or to Rigsby, or to anyone else..."

She paused, trying to ignore the sudden surge of something akin to relief in her chest. "Is this your way of telling me that I'm your only office pen-pal?" she asked, deciding to go with a joke.

"You're my only pen-pal, period," Jane corrected bluntly.

"Hm," Lisbon said, biting her lip as she realized the simple statement made her happier than it probably should have.

"Hm?" Jane asked incredulously. "That's all you have to say. Hm?"

"What were you expecting?" Lisbon asked, eyes twinkling.

"Something more than Hm," Jane muttered.

She smiled, suddenly realizing that reciprocation might be a good thing. Especially since if she didn't, Jane might take to sulking in his attic indefinitely. "You're the only person I write to too, Jane."

"Well... good," Jane said after a brief pause. "That's all there is to say, I guess."

"Is this your way of asking me to make our correspondence _exclusive?_" Lisbon prompted, determined to keep things light and trying very hard not to dwell too much on the fact that it was the only relationship she'd had in the last few years that could be described as such, and their interaction was mostly on paper.

Now it was Jane's turn to falter slightly. "Don't be silly, Lisbon... I wouldn't..."

"Jane..." she warned.

He shrugged, "Although, now that you mention it..."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes," she confirmed with a nod, pleased (and mollified) by the note of uncertainty she'd heard in his voice.

Jane nodded in return. "Alright."

"I mean, I'm not saying that I'm never going to write another letter to anyone else," Lisbon hastened to clarify. "I'm sure I'll need to write a letter from time to time in life."

"Of course," Jane agreed with a wave of his hand. "I understand."

"Good."

"Hm."

Then something occurred to Lisbon. Something that hadn't been addressed. "Jane?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes?" he asked cheerfully.

"Can I have my answer now?"

She could see the amusement rising in his eyes. It was particularly irritating given that he'd been the one who'd made the ridiculous assumptions in the first place. "What answer?"

She glared at him.

Jane smiled self-deprecatingly before removing a folded piece of paper from his vest pocket and slipping it into her jacket.

"Thank you," she murmured

She watched him run his thumb along her pocket, back and forth and back and forth. "You're welcome Lisbon."

"Are you over your unreasonable sulk now?" she wondered.

That earned her a slight glare. "It was not unreasonable."

She smirked. "So you do admit to sulking?"

"No."

Deciding to stop with the teasing, she went with the conventional method of reconciliation. "Want to come downstairs and have some tea?"

"Don't you want to read your letter?" Jane reminded her.

Lisbon paused to consider his suggestion. He was right, of course. She _did _want to read her letter. Very much. "I'll make the tea in fifteen minutes then."

Jane shook his head. "Or I could just meet you in your office in fifteen minutes with a pot."

"Okay."

"Okay."

She patted him on the shoulder, stepping away from him. "Try to contain your insane jealousy until then, would you?"

"I was _not_ jealous!" he insisted.

"Mmhm," she said on her way out.

"I _wasn't_," she heard him mutter just before the attic door slid shut.

Lisbon grinned to herself on her way down the stairs. Turned out that in some ways Jane was no different than the rest of the population. Jealous of a letter, that wasn't even a letter. Of all the ridiculous things. She definitely wasn't going to let him forget that one any time soon.

She fingered the letter tucked away in her pocket, reassured that it was still there.

xxx

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

So fluffy fic, is still fun (I think). But it's become a whole other thing now as well. My original plot is still going to happen, starting next chapter, but it's a bit expanded now. I think I like the shifts in tone, though. Or maybe it's more me realizing what the point of the fic really is. I don't know. Hope you guys like it (please don't pelt me with rotten fruit). Oh, and thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews!

Chapter 5

xxx

Lisbon arrived at her office the next morning at her usual time. She breezed in, sipping her coffee, jacket draped over her arm since the weather had turned unseasonably warm, her bag in the crook of her elbow. She set the coffee on her desk, tossed the bag in the corner to be put away later and draped her jacket over the back of her chair. Then she sat down, turned on her computer, and grinned at the present sitting in the centre of her desk.

It was a letter of course. She'd been expecting it.

She'd left one for him the evening before, tucked under his makeshift bed in the attic instead of the usual spot on his couch. Sometimes she liked to hide his letters in less traditional spots, just to keep him on his toes. She wasn't sure if she actually succeeded or if he saw right through her (and she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question), but she liked trying anyway. That was part of the fun, part of the pattern of their game.

Lisbon's grin widened as she took another sip of her coffee.

Because this letter wasn't a note. It wasn't two sentences Jane had jotted down because he had a question about her favourite type of cookie, or the team's plans for the day, or any one of the random questions he sometimes asked her when he quite simply got bored. No, this letter was far too long for that. Just by looking at it, Lisbon could tell it was at least two sheets of paper.

She picked it up, pleased.

Then she frowned. Although, if Jane had written her such a long letter the night before, she hoped the reason wasn't because he couldn't sleep. Obviously he would have had time to do both, but she always wondered about that when she got long letters in the morning. She knew he suffered from insomnia after all.

She sighed, biting her lip. Maybe the note wasn't a way of trying to distract himself from another sleepless night. Maybe he'd written it before he'd gone to his hotel room, where he proceeded to sleep like a baby. It was possible.

She wondered if she'd be able to tell from the tone of his note. Probably not.

Shaking her head, Lisbon opened her letter, determined not to let her brief thoughts ruin her enjoyment of it. After all, whatever Jane's mood, he'd written her because he'd wanted to. And his letters were almost always entertaining.

x

_Dear Lisbon_

_Have you ever noticed that people around the CBI seem to be happier on the days that the coffee shop around the corner has the dark chocolate latte as their daily feature? I'd say that maybe they should consider making it one of their regular offerings, but then people might not appreciate it as much. It's a funny old world that way._

_And on that note, I would like to add that you were particularly cheerful yesterday (not that you're an ogre normally of course, but... you know what I mean)._

_You know who else was particularly cheerful? Agent Latimer from Crimes against children. Of course, she's such a health nut, that I doubt the latte was the culprit there. I suspect we'll be hearing a wedding announcement soonish from that corner. I'd suspect pregnancy might be a possibility, but she hardly seems the type to glow over something that would shake up her carefully structured life that much._

_Now, I suppose I should stop with the gossip before you remember yourself and tell me it's unprofessional. Which is a shame, really Teresa, since there are all sorts of things I could tell you. Try not to look at it as gossip so much as sharing relevant information. What is it Wainwright is always prattling on about in his memos to staff? Knowledge exchange? Think of it as knowledge exchange. I'm very good at knowledge exchange. Of a certain type._

_Also, I noticed that they've started showing previews for one of those movies you like so much. One of those absurd spy movies that are supposed to be full of twists and turns, but the killer's usually breathtakingly obvious to anyone who's been paying attention ten minutes in. I suppose you'll be wanting me to suffer through it with you, which I might consider, if you buy me popcorn._

_Have you heard from Tommy lately? You haven't mentioned anything. Not that you usually mention anything, of course. But I was curious. I hope he's doing well. I'm sure he is. Tenacity seems to run in the Lisbon family. Well, tenacity and a few other things. Oh, speaking of Tommy, did I mention? Annie sent me an e-mail a few weeks ago. Seems her Dad found one of his old high school yearbooks. From the year big sister was graduating. It's funny how hairstyles change in a couple of decades, isn't it?_

_Your smile, on the other hand, hasn't changed a bit, dear._

_Not that we've been seeing it much, excluding the day of the dark chocolate latte. I noticed you were in Wainwright's office for quite a while on Monday. I'm assuming that's all mindless bureaucratic nonsense and not something I need to become involved in. You could tell me if it was. I'm not busy at the moment._

_Maybe you should take a day off. Enjoy the spring flowers. They're looking particularly lovely at the moment. I've always enjoyed the spring. It's probably my favourite season, not that the seasons are as well defined in California as in other places. Still, no matter where you are, spring's always so full of promise. Even the most hardened of hearts are affected. I'd hate to have you miss a spring, Lisbon, not for something as silly as bureaucracy._

_Dr. Jane prescribes a walk at lunch. It'll do you good._

_Sincerely,_

_Your physician (minus the medical degree)_

x

By the end of her letter Lisbon wasn't sure whether to attempt to reach through the paper and smack him or to laugh.

Between the breezy gossip (it really was little else), the observations about her moods as related to her food preferences (which was definitely approaching creepy), the snide comments about her taste in movies (which were utterly uncalled for AND hypocritical on top of it) and then to top it off...

Well, she was definitely going to have to have a chat with Annabeth about what was and as not appropriate to share with Jane. She suspected the list of things falling under 'not appropriate to share with your aunt's consultant' could be best summarized as "everything." Seriously though, Lisbon grumbled to herself, wasn't family supposed to remain loyal at least against outsiders? What had she ever done to deserve this?

She desperately tried to remember how horrible her final yearbook photo had been. And therefore, what it would take to exact a promise from Jane not to show it to anyone else. What could she threaten? There was the couch, but she couldn't pull that card too often...

Ugh. He was such a nuisance. Almost more trouble than he was worth. Almost.

Lisbon couldn't resist a smile though. Because underneath it all, she was pretty sure she could detect a note of, well, of _worry_ from her consultant. And that was... Really, it just _was_.

The concern was completely unnecessary of course (she may have been a bit stressed because of the upcoming quarterly reviews, but that was mainly paperwork and also very thankfully done now). Still, the glimmers of worry on her behalf made it awfully hard to stay mad at her consultant sometimes.

Rather than sitting there trying to decide exactly how annoyed she was with Jane, Lisbon decided to put her time to much more productive use, and write him a reply.

Besides, by the time she was done, she might have worked out whether the lunatic deserved a swat or a smile.

x

_Dear Jane, _

_First of all, when are you ever busy? As far as I can see, you spend the majority of most workdays sleeping on couches. Hardly the poster child for a bustling business day, I hate to tell you. And don't bother explaining that the majority of the work you do takes place within your own brain. 1) I've heard it all before, and 2) How do you think I justify your continued existence to management?_

_Also, don't ever discount the wonders of chocolate for brightening a bad day. We all have our little indulgences, Patrick. Think of what your day would be like if I hid your tea. Oh wait, I've already done that, haven't I? As I recall, you didn't exactly take it calmly (though for the most part you were lying down...See paragraph above)._

_I don't believe you know any more gossip than the rest of us. Not really. I just think you're good at making it look like you do and then guessing the rest. So I won't bother to tell you to stop. You won't stop anyway. Do you really think that Latimer's engaged? I hope so. I met Greg at the Christmas party last year. He seems like a nice guy._

_As for knowledge exchange, don't knock it until you try it, Patrick. We touched on it on that course I went on last week (the one you mocked until I thought your face would freeze in that irritating smirk), and yeah, maybe the term can be a bit much. But there's nothing wrong with wanting to communicate better so that the CBI can function more efficiently. Just because you're not much of a team player doesn't mean no one else is. Maybe we should send you on a course. Who knows, you might even like it! Although, come to think of it, I'm not sure I'd want to inflict you on the other participants, not without some kind of warning. Maybe if we got them to sign a waiver..._

_Also, remind me to have a little chat with Annabeth. I thought she was on my side. This is spectacularly unfair you know. Seeing as you didn't even go high school, making it difficult for me to retaliate. Still, I bet I could dig up some less than flattering photos of you if I wanted. I'd start with mug shots, obviously. Based on personal experience, someone must have had the urge to arrest you before we met._

_And quit your complaining about my taste in movies! If anything, you enjoy those ridiculous espionage movies even more than I do! I didn't even know here was a new one coming out. I had to look it up on the internet to find out what you were even talking about, you big fraud. I think that means that you should be the one to buy ME popcorn, but I'll compromise and say I'll buy the popcorn if you get the tickets._

_As for taking a day off, I'd like to thank my unofficial (and self-appointed) physician for his completely unsolicited advice, but I can assure you that there's no cause for concern. Quarterly reviews are never fun, not that you'd know anything about them. Anyway, they're done now, and I somehow managed to survive it. Besides, I'm quite capable of looking at the flowers on the weekend._

_Actually, I'll have you know that I probably see the flowers more than you think. I went hiking a few days ago, and I saw flowers outside, that weren't in a planter somewhere. When was the last time you did that? Do you even own a pair of non-dress shoes? I know I'm not exactly Miss Outdoorsy, but you make me look like the poster child for appreciating nature._

_Seriously Jane, it's nice of you to think of me, but I'm fine. I promise. Speaking of being fine, all kidding aside, how are you? You have looked a bit tired lately (and no stupid jokes about how that's what everyone wants to hear; you know what I mean). Have you been sleeping? I know sometimes, your insomnia can keep you up. I mean, you didn't write my letter when you should have been trying to get some rest, did you? I know you really don't like doctors, but maybe you should consider seeing someone. Especially if it's getting worse. I could ask around if you like. I don't mind._

_Anyway, just think about it._

_And stop pestering my niece for inside information!_

_-Lisbon_

x

Folding her letter, Lisbon swung out of her office in the direction of the break room. Sure enough, there was Jane, dunking a tea bag in his first cup of tea of the day.

He glanced over at her, smiling slightly when he realized what she was almost certainly there for.

Lisbon smiled back, and tucked the note very deliberately in his pocket.

Jane's smile widened and he reached behind his back and handed her a fresh mug of coffee.

Lisbon swatted him lightly in the arm. "Oh, don't look so smug," she said, before swinging back out the way she'd come.

xxx

Barely fifteen minutes later, the team caught a case a couple hours out of the city. A middle-aged suburban mom was found dead in a small town and the locals were in over their heads.

They local sheriff sounded pretty desperate for CBI assistance, so Lisbon figured she wouldn't be able to talk to Jane about her letter until afterwards.

Her consultant had other plans though.

Jane caught up to her outside the elevator on their way to the crime scene. Falling in-step beside her, he pitched his voice low so only she could hear. "I'm not tired, Lisbon," he assured her.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him.

He smiled ever so slightly. "I'm not tired," he said again. "I got enough sleep last night."

She ducked her head briefly before glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Your insomnia getting better?" she asked hopefully.

She saw him pause, obviously considering what to tell her. The delay was only a split second, but Lisbon was all too aware what it meant. Jane was debating whether or not to lie to her.

"Hard to say," he said after a moment. Some weeks I'm not bothered by it at all, and then, suddenly, after two weeks of sleeping well, all of a sudden I just can't."

"Oh," Lisbon said feeling suddenly inadequate. She didn't know what to say. Listing off home remedies seemed trite, he'd almost certainly tried them all anyway, but she needed to say something. Because she was almost positive that Jane had told her the absolute truth. Which meant a platitude was a terrible response.

"Yeah," Jane muttered as he gestured her into the elevator ahead of him.

She bit her lip. "If it ever gets really bad," she started to say.

He sighed. "Lisbon it almost never impedes my ability to function; you know that."

She shook her head slightly. Call her optimistic, but she wanted to aim for something higher than simply being able to function. "Yeah, but..."

Jane closed his eyes briefly. "If it ever gets really bad," he started to say. He sighed almost silently (though not so silently she couldn't hear it in a silent elevator). "If it ever gets really bad," he repeated. "Then I'll think about telling you."

Lisbon blinked at him in surprise, but didn't press. She knew a small victory when she saw one. "Okay," she agreed.

Jane just nodded. Then, suddenly he grinned fast and bright. "Also, Annie sent me that photo as a thank you for giving her tips on how to tell if someone's lying, and how to stop someone from telling you are."

Lisbon groaned. "I should have known you meeting my niece would only spell bad news for me."

Jane chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, she only agreed to send it after I swore not to show it to anyone else."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him. "Obviously she didn't take your tips on how to tell if someone's lying to heart," she said dryly.

Jane looked offended. "One, my tips don't really work over the phone, and they really don't work over text messaging and two, I'm hurt that you'd think I'd do that to you, Teresa."

She snorted. "What? Show people mortifying pictures of me from my past? You'd think it's hilarious."

"It's not mortifying," Jane said softly.

Lisbon glanced over sharply. "What?"

He shrugged. "The photo. It's not that bad," he said. "And I'm not going to show it to anyone. I was just... curious."

"Really?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Jane just shrugged again.

Lisbon bit her lip. "Well, I guess I don't need to dig up embarrassing photos of you then."

She saw the corner of his mouth quirk up in amusement, and figured he'd accepted her apology.

"So, ready for the case?" she asked suddenly, her tone friendly as she jostled him slightly with her elbow.

He smirked. "You know me, Lisbon," he said dryly. "I'm always ready."

She just chuckled in response.

xxx

Unfortunately, Lisbon realized later that _she _was the one who wasn't quite ready for the case. She'd been so caught up in the fun of her letter and her vague concern for Jane that, while she'd definitely read the case file and learned all the pertinent details, not of it quite sunk in until much later. She hadn't had time to sort it out in her mind. Hadn't had time to mentally prepare.

Which normally wasn't an issue, but this case was different.

She'd let it shake her. Sometimes the cases got to her. That wasn't necessarily a problem; Lisbon figured it probably made her a better cop. What was a problem was that it'd shaken her enough that it might have (horrifyingly) been noticeable.

Well, maybe not noticeable for everyone. Hopefully not. Please, hopefully not. Luckily Cho had been off with Rigsby most of the case and so hadn't been around enough to pick up on it. The locals didn't really know her well enough. Jane had noticed though.

She'd caught Jane watching her more than once over the past day and a half. Watching her like he was afraid she was going to shatter in a million pieces any second now.

The gall of that man. Like she wasn't capable of being a professional. Like she couldn't hold it together. Like she was going to _break._

She'd show him. She'd show them all.

Lisbon straightened her files with a vengeance. The team would solve this case, just like they'd solved hundreds of others. And then they would all go home.

And she would be just _fine_.

xxx

Thankfully the team did solve the case, that very evening in fact.

Lisbon had never been so thankful to hear the words, "Lisbon, I have a plan," come out of Jane's mouth.

Luckily, his plan had gone off without a hitch. Everything had gotten wrapped up with the locals. There weren't any huge messes to clean up.

She'd just finished briefing Wainwright, now she just had to close up her office for the night, and she could head home. If Jane didn't catch her first.

He might try to. He might want to _talk_, or something.

Except, that Jane had been oddly, well, non-intrusive lately. He hadn't pressed her, hadn't gotten up in her space, hadn't made her uncomfortable in any way. Not even in jest, since they'd gotten to the crime scene the day before.

He'd let her have her space.

Well, mostly.

He'd been watching, never too far away, like he was ready to step in or, or intervene at a moment's notice. Once she thought he was about to with the victim's husband.

He didn't.

She would have killed him if he had.

She'd had everything under control.

Still, she wasn't used to that kind of thoughtfulness. From anyone.

It was... different.

Lisbon slipped into her office, shutting and locking the door behind her, beyond pleased that no one had waylaid her on her way there. She figured she might manage to finish her day intact.

Then she saw the letter on her desk.

Shutting her eyes briefly, she immediately turned to shut her blinds, unsure of what it said, but... but...

She picked it up with shaking fingers, and sank down on her desk chair. Like all of her consultant's letters, it didn't seem right to wait to read it.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I know you don't want to talk to anyone, and that's fine. I'm not going to force you. You're certainly not obligated to, for any reason. Neither your performance nor your professionalism was affected in any way but what may or may not have been going through your mind. They never are. You don't have to worry about that. But I noticed that something was up, because well, you pay me to notice things. And I know you. _

_And while I'm not going to force you to talk, there is something I want to tell you. And I'm giving you the message in a way that's familiar to you, and that gives you all the control you want. Remember when we started this, and I mentioned that communicating by letter was different than other ways? It is, Teresa. We've both learned that. And we both know that only you can decide what to write down. You can do with this letter what you will. If you choose to do nothing, I won't mention it again. You have my word on that. And don't make a joke about how my word means nothing to you. We both know that's not true._

_But I do know that something's upset you, Teresa. I can see it. I know there's something you're holding in. You could tell me, you know. If you want to. You know I'd never tell anyone. You've certainly kept more of my secrets for longer than I care to think about. Besides, who would I have to tell? (That was an attempt at humour, Teresa, just in case it didn't come across the page.) Whatever you decide, you know where to find me. I'll listen (or read, or whatever you decide)._

_Your faithful correspondent,_

_Jane_

x

Lisbon's hands were shaking slightly as she read the letter. He wanted her to... He had the _nerve_ to... To ask her to divulge...

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would somehow keep the ache in, along with keeping in the tears that she could feel threatening just below the surface.

She wanted to hit him.

How could he ask this of her? Did he have any idea how hard this was?

She bit her lip.

Because maybe he did. She remembered Jane's face any time he had to mention his wife or his daughter. The carefully constructed mask that did such a terrible job of hiding his grief.

And... and... he wasn't putting pressure on her. Well, she thought, not directly at least. She was sure Jane knew which approach would be more likely to get her to tell him anything at all. He was _Jane_ after all.

But that wasn't the point. If he'd wanted to manipulate her directly, if he'd been doing this to see her _react_ then he'd have done it in public. Or at the very least _in person_, so that he could watch what she did.

Instead, Jane had written her a letter, and left her to read it alone, somewhere she felt safe. Somewhere that was hers. Lisbon glanced around at the objects in her office, taking a small measure of comfort from their familiarity.

And anyway, as Jane'd said himself, she didn't need to tell him anything at all. She could get up, walk out of her office, get in her car, and spend her evening on her couch watching hockey and trying to ignore the world, just like she'd planned.

Lisbon bit her lip, glancing down at her letter.

Except... she might...

She dropped her head in her hands. She might _want_ to tell him.

She'd gotten used to telling him things. Mostly nonsense things, but not quite all nonsense in the end. And she was so sick of, of never telling anyone. She was so tired of the overwhelming effort. She was so exhausted with work required to keep everyone out.

Oh God. She did want to tell him.

It was official. She'd gone certifiably crazy. She'd always known this day would come, and he'd be the one responsible. She just hadn't expected this particular scenario to be the cause.

Except, what did it matter if she told him?

After all, he was _Jane._ He'd probably guessed most of it anyway. So what could it possibly hurt at this point? He wasn't going to tell anyone. She knew that was true, at least.

Maybe she'd give this whole self-expression thing all the pseudo-doctors on TV were constantly prattling on about a try.

Before she could think about it too much more, Lisbon grabbed a piece of paper and started to write.

God help her.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I don't know why I'm telling you this. I really don't. You probably do though, infuriatingly. Please don't tell me. I really don't need the added aggravation right now. Before I start, I don't know what you normally do with my letters, but I don't suppose I could ask you to burn this one after you've read it? Taking care not to leave any charred corners of course... (My attempt at humour.) Or, if you don't want to do that, maybe you could just hide it really well, I'm sure you'd know a good spot._

_I... I don't know where to start. This case. This case was something. But then, I'm sure you already know that. And I'm sure you already know why. I'm not sure why you need me to tell you, actually. But then, I'm also not sure why I'm even writing this letter. Maybe it's a nervous breakdown. I don't care._

_You know the details of the case already. You were standing right there with the rest of us. Monica Willis, found dead in an alley. Shot to death, as it turns out by the town's local scumbag because she wouldn't succumb to his clumsy attempts at blackmail. A woman of principles, survived by her husband and her thirteen year old daughter, Christine. In fact, Monica was on her way back to Christine's school basketball games when she picked the wrong night to stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things. Especially since the stop lead to an unplanned detour thanks to the local criminal element._

_At least Christine went out for dinner with the team after their victory. Thank goodness for small mercies. At least she wasn't in the car with her mother. At least this way there weren't two bodies. You know, even though her daughter didn't need a ride home, Monica still went to the game. Because she never missed one of her daughter's games Jane. Not once. Not even if she didn't need to be there. That's the kind of parent she was. But that's not what Christine's going to remember from this. No matter how many times people tell her it's not her fault, no matter how true she knows that fact is, all that she's going to remember is that her mother was killed because she went to her basketball game. If there hadn't been a basketball game, her mother might not have been killed._

_I played basketball. My mother never missed a game either. Not one._

_On the other hand, I don't know if my father made it to a single one after she died. Maybe that's not fair. He was grieving too, and he wasn't used to dealing with it all. He used to take the boys to soccer more anyway, while my mother drove me to basketball._

_Afterwards, Tommy and Jim and Charlie tried. They went to some when they weren't busy. Cheered me on. Once they even made a sign. But they couldn't go to all of the games. They were growing up, had things of their own._

_I understood. Besides, that wasn't their job._

_Did you know that when the drunk driver hit her, she was buying popsicles for us? It was a family tradition, first weekend after school was out. We'd all grab one, and sit on the porch, and talk about what we were going to do over the summer, how we'd spend our vacations. The grape ones used to be my favourite. Now I still can't eat them._

_If we hadn't needed popsicles..._

_Logically, if we hadn't needed popsicles, she might have slipped and fallen down the stairs. You never know._

_Either way, I still hated this case._

_And that's it in a nutshell really. Do with it what you will. I don't want to talk about it anymore._

_-Lisbon_

x

Setting down her pen, Lisbon didn't bother to reread the letter. She knew that if she did, she'd never give it to him. Instead, she stood up, made sure her eyes were dry, and marched out to the (thankfully now mostly empty) bullpen.

Jane opened his eyes when he saw her approach.

Lisbon didn't meet them. She glanced away, dropped the folded piece of paper on his chest and practically fled the building, unspeakably relieved when he didn't follow her.

Then she settled in to spend her night exactly as she'd planned to, curled up on her couch watching sports.

As she ate her microwave popcorn, she realized that she might (_might_) be willing to admit that she felt slightly better about the whole thing after writing it down.

The ache seemed slightly more manageable, or something. Maybe there really was something to these letters.

Then her doorbell rang.

Lisbon froze, briefly debating whether she could get away with not answering it.

She didn't want to answer it. She already knew who was on the other side. What was he doing there anyway? He'd said he'd leave her alone. He'd said she had all the control. He'd promised...

Lisbon took a deep breath.

He'd promised not to push.

Maybe he wasn't going to? A hopeful thought struck her. Maybe he just wanted to give her a letter. Maybe that was all. She could probably just about manage that. Maybe. On the other hand, maybe if she didn't answer the door, he'd go away.

The doorbell rang a second time.

Sighing, Lisbon muted the hockey game, stood up and walked across the room. Whatever Jane wanted, it was probably better to get it over with.

She opened the door, and sure enough, there was Jane on the other side, looking, well, actually, she wasn't sure how he looked. He looked like Jane, Jane who was watching her particularly intently.

She looked back at him, feeling ridiculously vulnerable. Her throat went dry. What was he going to say? Why had she opened her door again? What had ever possessed her to write that damn letter? She'd thought she was okay with it, when he wasn't actually standing in front of her, but now... Oh god. She couldn't talk about it. She coudln't deal with conversation right now. She couldn't...

But Jane didn't say anything, just slipped around her into her apartment.

She moved awkwardly to let him, even if the movement came a moment too late. So she just shut the door behind him. Her movements were horribly jerky and awkward. He must have noticed. She knew he had. But he ignored it.

He simply held up a letter. Lisbon sighed in relief. Maybe it was just a letter.

Except instead of handing it to her, Jane set it on her coffee table.

Lisbon opened her mouth to ask, well, she wasn't sure what. Her throat still felt clogged and tight. She didn't actually get any words out.

Besides, Jane was shaking his head and putting a finger to his lips.

Lisbon frowned in confusion.

Then, without another word, he wrapped his arms around her.

Lisbon stood stock still for at least a full three seconds, she was sure. Her lack of response didn't seem to dissuade Jane though. He merely tightened his grip slightly.

So she tentatively raised an arm around his shoulders, feeling him rub circles on her back with one hand in response. She let out a soft half-choked sob, turning into his neck to try to hide the noise. Jane just tightened his grip a second time, and Lisbon wrapped her other arm around his waist, breathing in the familiar smell of his cologne.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, wasn't sure how long he held her. At one point he loosened his grip slightly, only to tighten it again immediately when she made a small sound of protest and refused to let go. Lisbon relaxed slowly into his arms again, suddenly confident that he would hold her as long as she liked.

She almost smiled. She supposed she could deal with silent support. After a few more moments, she loosened her grip. As she'd expected, Jane waited for her to move away slightly before loosening his.

She glanced up at him shyly.

He searched her eyes for a moment. Whatever he saw seemed to please him, because his expression brightened. Lisbon tilted her head to the side in question. Smiling affectionately at her confusion, Jane merely placed a finger to his lips a second time. Then, tapping the letter he'd left on her coffee table twice, he gave her elbow one final squeeze before slipping out of her apartment as smoothly as he'd slipped in.

Lisbon stared at her door for a moment before locking it behind him. Then she picked up her letter and made her way back to her couch to read it.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_I can assure you that no eyes but yours or mine will ever see your letter, though I can also assure you that if they did, the consequences wouldn't be as bad as you're imagining._

_I'm sorry this case has opened up old wounds. I'm not going to tell you that you're strong, that you'll persevere, that you'll get through it. We both know that you already have, and you will continue to do so. But I am sorry that today something caused you pain. I hope you feel a little better. _

_Now do me a favour, would you? Just one. Go to bed. Right now. Try and get some sleep. Take it from an occasional insomniac, it can work wonders._

_And if you need me, you know where I am. Not that you will, but just so you know._

_-Patrick_

x

Biting her lip, Lisbon considered his advice. She hadn't really wanted to go to sleep, figuring that it wouldn't come easily. But the hockey game wasn't very interesting; she'd been barely paying attention before Jane showed up if she was honest with herself. And maybe it would be a good idea to just get the day over with.

Especially since, against all expectations, she was feeling better.

Deciding, just this once, to take her consultant's advice without argument, Lisbon turned off the TV and went to bed.

xxx

Not that she was perfectly calm when she arrived at work the next morning. A hug the evening before was one thing, but eventually they would have to actually _speak_ to each other. She really didn't want it to be awkward.

And she really hoped the day wouldn't be busy. For one, she couldn't deal with another case right away.

She didn't see Jane for the first hour or so of the morning. When he did pop by her office he certainly didn't seem inclined to mention his visit the night before.

Instead, he wordlessly walked into her office and lay down on her couch.

"Well, good morning to you too," she said after a moment.

She thought she caught him smile briefly before he replied. "Good morning, Lisbon. I thought I'd sleep on your couch today."

"Oh did you?" she asked, bristling defensively. She may have been upset the night before and she'd appreciated his concern, but she did not need Jane watching over her like some sort of babysitter. She could take care of herself.

"Mmhm," Jane confirmed. Before Lisbon could reply, he continued. "You did say you wanted me to tell you if I wasn't sleeping well."

Immediately she softened. "Is your insomnia back?" she asked gently, guiltily hoping that she hadn't done anything to bring this on. After all, yesterday hadn't been an easy day for her, but what about Jane? He certainly wasn't used to dealing with emotions either. "Is it because... Is there anything I can do?"

This time Jane definitely smiled, but didn't answer her half-spoken question. "Just let me sleep on your couch, Lisbon," he told her. "You're team's taking bets on how many wads of paper they can toss in the trash cans out there. It's way more peaceful in here."

"Of course you can stay," she said indulgently. "As long as you let me get my paperwork done."

"Certainly," Jane agreed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she murmured.

So stay Jane did. And Lisbon found that she didn't really mind having him there, even if he did spend the better part of the day in her office. And even if, in spite of what he said about his insomnia returning (and Lisbon chose to believe there was some truth to that statement), he was watching her.

Jane may have been watching her, but he didn't seem to be judging her, or implying that she somehow needed him. He was just _there_.

She decided she could live with that.

As she shut off her computer, Lisbon glanced over to her couch, surprised to find Jane asleep. At least, he looked like he was asleep. Lisbon wasn't sure if he was actually asleep, or if he was just pretending to be so as to not make things awkward for her by forcing her to think of something to say to him.

She hoped he really was asleep, for his sake (whatever he said about his insomnia not being that bad). As quietly as she could, she grabbed a sheet of paper from her desk and wrote him a quick note. She tucked it under his arm, briefly patting his shoulder affectionately, before shutting off all of the lights and leaving him to (hopefully) catch up on his rest.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Sleep well._

_And thank you._

_Love Lisbon_

_P.S. Movie on Saturday?_

xxx

TBC

So what if I did just have two hugs in two chapters? PERFECTLY REASONABLE. Leave me be.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hi guys! Remember that plot I was talking about in my last author's note? Yeah, I wouldn't bother looking for it in this chapter... (The plan is to have it next chapter, but at this rate I wouldn't bet on that.) Whatever. Also, sorry for the slight delay in getting this one written. Sometimes my muse is recalcitrant.

Chapter 6

xxx

As had become her habit, Lisbon walked into her office, put down her belongings, and started searching for her morning letter.

Most of the time the search wasn't particularly long. Jane tended to just leave the letters somewhere obvious, like on the corner of her desk, or tucked under her keyboard or her stapler. But not always.

Sometimes he hid them.

Never anywhere particularly difficult, of course. He did want her to find the notes eventually (after all, if she couldn't find them, how could she write back?). At worst, the letters were tucked somewhere that Lisbon only found immediately after she'd given up the search, like the time Jane had slipped a note into the file Wainwright had asked her to read before the morning was over. Some days she simply spent ten minutes picking random things up off her desk or shelves, hoping to find a letter hidden underneath.

Today felt like it was going to be one of those days.

Lisbon absently picked up her coffee cup, unsurprised to find nothing but desk beneath it. She sincerely doubted Jane would have hidden a letter under her coffee mug. It was far too easy a hiding spot for one. She shifted a pile of files, no joy. Spinning slowly around her office, Lisbon started picking up various objects. Just as she was about to give up, she noticed the top drawer of her filing cabinet had been left ever so slightly open.

Smirking, Lisbon strode over and opened it more fully. There was nothing obviously out of place, but she was sure she was on the right track. Then something did catch her eye, a new folder labeled "Correspondence." She laughed softly as she flipped open the (very slim) folder. Sure enough it contained a single piece of paper.

Letting the drawer slide shut, Lisbon skimmed her prize.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Of course movie on Saturday. The nine o'clock show downtown? I'll pick you up at 8:30; it's on my way after all. Unless, in honour of the genre, you would prefer we meet in a back alley after a ludicrously convoluted series of signals designed to conceal our meeting, but in reality only making the two of us stand out like sore thumbs._

_And don't think I've forgotten about the popcorn you owe me for this. I think I'd like large. If you're nice to me, I might even share._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon chuckled. If she was nice to him indeed. She had no intention of falling all over him for popcorn of all things. One, he'd give her popcorn either way. And two, if he didn't, well, she'd simply buy her own.

She was an independent woman after all.

Sometimes Jane needed to be reminded of that fact.

Smiling, Lisbon grabbed a pen.

x

_Dear Jane_

_I'll give you a ludicrously convoluted hand signal. But yes, 8:30's fine. I'll be ready._

_And who said anything about sharing popcorn? Maybe I want my own!_

_-Lisbon_

x

Lisbon sauntered out of her office towards the consultant she could now see leaning against one of the poles just down the hall. He made a show of looking surprised at her approach.

She merely hit him in the arm with her letter on the way by, smirking when (as expected) he took the opportunity to grab it from her.

It was nice to know that once in a blue moon she could predict what he was about to do as easily as he could often read her.

His reply was on her desk just after lunchtime. Unfortunately Lisbon didn't get a chance to read it until after the mandatory CBI-wide staff meeting.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Somehow I don't think the hand signal you're referring to would be convoluted..._

_You do not want your own popcorn. You want to get candy (either Junior Mints or Reese's Bites), and then steal some of my popcorn. Besides, if we get a large popcorn, don't we get free refills anyway? So why would we bother getting two?_

_It just wouldn't be sensible Teresa. I'm surprised at you for suggesting it. If I promise to let you steal mine without penalty or recrimination, will you reconsider your (frankly unreasonable) position?_

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon sputtered into her coffee as she read her note. (She really had to remember not to drink when she first read the silly things.)

Unreasonable position indeed. That man was lucky that she was already pleased with him due to his relatively good behaviour in the earlier CBI-wide staff meeting.

Okay, actually he was lucky that she didn't feel like arguing with him, especially given that they both knew the argument was fake.

Lisbon paused, nibbling the end of her pen as she considered her letter.

Alright, fine; she didn't feel like arguing with him _much._

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm going to be the bigger person and let the comment about the reasonableness of my position slide._

_Very well, one large popcorn. But I'm only doing it for the free refills, and because stolen food always tastes better. Don't think this means that you can sneak any of my candy._

_-Lisbon_

x

Then, just for the fun of it, Lisbon decided not to give her consultant his letter right away. Let him worry about whether or not she was actually mad enough at him to withhold her correspondence. Or (and more likely), let him sit and fidget, wondering what she'd written but hadn't bothered to give him.

Lisbon smirked when she noticed that Jane seemed to have cause to walk by her office more often than usual that afternoon.

She relented just before she left for the day, slipping his letter into his jacket pocket with a smirk. His twinkling eyes let her know that he knew exactly what she'd been up to.

She shot him one final smile before turning towards the elevator. She heard Jane unfolding the note just before the doors opened.

"Like I'd be foolish to try and steal your candy. I don't have a death wish, you know," he called after her.

Lisbon stepped into the elevator and turned to face him, big smile on her face. "Glad to hear it," she replied cheerfully.

Just before the elevator doors closed she caught his answering smile, half-surprised, half-considering.

xxx

That evening, Lisbon relaxed on her couch, an empty bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of her. She had about an hour before Jane was due to pick her up and she was bored. She'd already flicked through the television channels and nothing there even remotely sparked her interest. Her mind idly went back over her week, the odd mixture of stress and silliness that she was really glad was over. Lisbon frowned, thinking of the lightness at the start of the week.

Then she smirked and grabbed her phone.

"Hey," she heard on the other end of the line.

"Hi Anna-ie," Lisbon greeted, catching herself just in time.

"Nice save, Aunt Reese," her niece replied.

Lisbon decided to play dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She could almost see her niece rolling her eyes. "Sure."

Lisbon found herself smiling, "Look, I called you Annabeth for almost fourteen years, cut me some slack here. I need a little longer to get used to the change."

Lisbon heard the laughter on the other end of the line. "Not that I'm not happy to hear from you, but you have a reason for calling Aunt Reese? Other than discussing my new nickname?"

"Sometimes I call just to talk," Lisbon defended.

"True," Annie replied. "Sometimes you do. But usually you call to talk, _and_ to check up on Dad and me, or to try and get some sort of hint about birthday present ideas."

"Well, your birthday's not coming up," Lisbon pointed out. "Neither is your Dad's."

"No," Annie agreed. "And Dad said he talked to you earlier this week."

"He did," Lisbon confirmed.

"And you're not answering my question about why you called," Annie continued.

"I think you know why I called, _Annabeth,_" Lisbon replied, deliberately using her niece's full first name and an authoritative tone of voice.

She heard Annie sigh. "He told you."

Lisbon smirked. "He did."

"I can't believe he told you," Annie grumbled.

"_Of course_ he told me," Lisbon exclaimed. "How else would he bug me about it? Besides, it's not like you swore him to secrecy or anything."

"I assumed I wouldn't have to," her niece muttered.

"Well that was your first mistake," Lisbon said, glad to share her experience in dealing with her difficult consultant. "Never assume anything with Jane. What on earth made you think of offering that as a deal anyway?"

Lisbon heard a pause on the other end of the line. "He didn't tell you?" Annie asked.

"Tell me what?" Lisbon replied with trepidation.

"That sending the photo was actually his idea," Annie said cheerfully.

"_What?_"

"Jane said you were the one who gave him the idea," Annie continued, and Lisbon could hear her niece's amusement dripping down the phone line. "Apparently you accused him of snooping through your high school yearbooks a few weeks ago, and he doesn't like the internet, so he thought paper copies would be easier to come by. Where else to get a paper copy of your yearbook than from someone who went to your high school. And that was where I come in."

Lisbon sputtered. "I... I was _joking_ when I said... Oh, never mind. I'll talk to him about that later. Annie, I know you talk to Jane from time to time, and I think that's great..."

"Do you?" the teenager asked sceptically.

"_Yes_," Lisbon said firmly.

Annie paused, "Okay."

"I meant that," Lisbon insisted. She wanted to make sure Annie knew that. Jane would never do anything to deliberately hurt her niece, and the sporadic contact would be good for him, even if it caused Lisbon herself the occasional headache.

"I know."

"But could you maybe not send him stuff from my childhood," Lisbon all but pleaded. "I do like to try to keep my work and my personal life separate."

"Oh," Annie said softly. "I didn't... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I'm not mad," Lisbon said gently. "Just..."

"I just thought," Annie said at the same time.

"What?" Lisbon asked, prompting her niece when she stopped speaking abruptly.

"I just thought, well, the way Jane was talking, and the way you... it sounded like you were kind of, well... _friends._"

Lisbon froze. Where she and Jane friends? She hadn't really thought about their relationship in those terms before. It hadn't ever really come up, but she supposed they must be. They were private pen pals, and they sometimes did stuff together. He was picking her up to go to a movie that very evening for Pete's sake. What was wrong with her? Obviously the two of them were friends, she was pretty sure at least. (Who knows what _Jane_ thought...) "Well, of course we're friends," she said after a minute. "Yeah."

"You sure about that?" Annie asked, sounding amused.

"Of course I'm sure!" Lisbon insisted a little too loudly. She was certainly sure she was being laughed at.

Annie apparently decided to drop the obviously touchy subject. "Okay, well, anyway. It didn't sound like Jane wanted the picture to post around the walls of the CBI so I figured sending him the picture wouldn't hurt. I think he was just curious. And I _did_ make him promise that he wouldn't show it to anyone."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Lisbon said dryly.

She heard a brief hesitation on the other end of the line. "Are you mad?"

Lisbon sighed, "I told you I wasn't. I just wanted you to maybe think about what you're using to barter with Jane for next time."

Suddenly Annie chuckled, "Yeah, what he really wants are the stories."

"Seriously, don't you dare," Lisbon threatened.

"Course not. It's more fun to not tell him anyway," her niece promised easily.

Lisbon laughed, suddenly happy. She really did need to make more of an effort to see her family more often. These weekly phone calls just weren't enough. "That's my girl," she said affectionately.

"Hey, Aunt Reese?" Annie asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

There was another pause. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," Lisbon said gently. "You can ask me anything. You know that."

"You know how you said that you thought it was great that I still talked to Jane..." Annie said slowly.

"_Great_ may have been an exaggeration, given that you're apparently forwarding him embarrassing information about my teenage years," Lisbon said dryly.

"Yeah, well," Annie continued, apparently deciding to ignore that comment. "Is that because... I mean, I know that his family... I guess... Does he seem lonely to you sometimes?"

Lisbon paused unsure how to answer the question. "I think everyone gets lonely sometimes."

That response resulted in another wave of teenage disapproval down the phone line. "Come on, such a non-answer."

Lisbon sighed, wondering if she was always so transparent. "Okay, yes. You're right; sometimes I think Jane does get lonely. And I think he can be a bit isolated. Just like some other people I could name," Lisbon said significantly, ignoring her niece's dismissive snort. "I think it's nice that you two kept in touch. For both of you. Even if he is probably teaching you all sorts of things I don't want to know about."

"Yeah, well we're not like, regular pen pals or anything," Annie muttered. "We just send texts sometimes."

Lisbon laughed, unbelievably amused by her niece's wording and the fact that apparently Jane's most regular communication was with the Lisbon women. She briefly considered introducing him to her sisters-in-law to see whether they continued the trend, before deciding that there might need to be a genetic component. And besides, Lisbon didn't want to give Jane more potential sources of embarrassing information. "I figured."

"Yeah." She heard her Annie take a deep breath. "Um... Also, while you're already on the phone..."

"Yeah?"

Lisbon could practically see the teenager stalling on the other end of the phone line. "Well, I wanted to talk to you about something anyway."

"What is it sweetie?" she prompted.

"How'd you get to be a cop?" Annie blurted out.

The question wasn't what Lisbon was expecting, although she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting exactly. Possibly something related to their earlier conversation. "What?"

"Well, I was looking into it a bit," Annie said quickly. "And I know a lot of the requirements. But I was looking through some stuff at the guidance office, and they have all of these recommendations, and there's all this stuff about having related experience and volunteering and stuff, and..."

"You really want to be a cop?" Lisbon double-checked when her niece paused for breath.

"Yeah. I told you that," Annie said decisively.

Lisbon paused, momentarily thrown. She hadn't been sure that Annie had actually meant any of that conversation. Especially given what had happened afterwards, with her brother tapping her phone and stuff. "Right. I just thought... Never mind. As to how you go about doing it, it depends on what kind of cop you want to be. For example, a college degree isn't required for all police work, but it's probably a good idea. It is required for most jobs at the CBI, for example."

"Right," Annie agreed. "I meant more, is there anything I should be doing now? Like volunteering or something, for my resume?"

"It couldn't hurt," Lisbon said softly. "Didn't you used to volunteer part time at a youth program or something?"

"Yeah, but after last year, I kind of gave it up when things got a bit crazy. Y'know, with Dad's new job and..."

"Right."

Annie sighed, "Please, no comments Aunt Reese."

"I didn't say anything," Lisbon insisted. She may have been thinking it, but honestly, they couldn't expect her not to _think_ these things. Being a bounty hunter was such a dangerous job, and really, why couldn't Tommy just build decks? Would that be so bad? She'd certainly sleep better at night. She could accept that it was his choice (okay, she could try her best to accept that), but they couldn't expect her to be thrilled that her little brother's job was dangerous.

"Okay."

"Well, you guys are settling a bit more now aren't you?" Lisbon asked hopefully. "Maybe you could try and find somewhere to volunteer again. Doesn't have to be a huge number of hours. Anything with the public is good, but if it's outside, maybe with kids again, that's probably better. Anything that you could say that you were showing leadership is usually a plus."

"You sound like my guidance counsellor," Annie observed.

Lisbon laughed. "Hey! You want to hear how to pad a resume, or do you want to mock your aunt?"

"Tough call," her niece quipped.

Lisbon smiled and ignored that. "And, if you're really interested..."

"I _am_," Annie insisted.

"Well, then, I don't think you're old enough this year, but the CBI does have month-long internships in the summer. I could forward you the application next year or the year after, maybe put in a good word for you."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Annie?" Lisbon asked.

"Are you serious?" her niece asked.

"Yeah," Lisbon said. "You wouldn't be working with me or anything, and I can't guarantee you the job or anything, but if you got it, you could always stay with me for the month."

"You're actually serious," Annie said slowly.

Lisbon smiled. "It won't be all fun though. You'll probably be doing a lot of filing and other things no one else wants to do. Maybe observe the odd interrogation. You definitely wouldn't leave the building or anything."

"Whatever," Annie said quickly. "That's still so cool."

"Well, if you're still interested in a year or two..."

"I'll be interested."

"_If_ you're still interested," Lisbon repeated. "And if you keep your grades up high enough to meet the cut-off, I'll give you a heads up when applications are being accepted. And Annie?"

"Yeah?" her niece asked breathlessly.

"When you're applying, ignore any and all suggestions Jane might make," Lisbon said dryly.

As it was intended to, the comment made Annie laugh. "Sure. Thanks so much Aunt Reese."

"Yeah, well," Lisbon said with an awkward cough. "I'm still not sure how wild I am about this career choice."

"It's what I want," Annie insisted.

"Then I'll help you," Lisbon said as firmly as I could, before a slight hitch in her voice tripped her up. "You know that, right?"

"Course."

"Good."

"I should go," Annie said. "I think Dad's looking for me."

"Okay," Lisbon agreed easily. "Give him my love."

"I will. And thanks again," Annie said, her tone excited.

"You got it."

"Night Aunt Reese. Love you," Annie said easily.

"Night, love you back," Lisbon said back.

She hung up the phone, smiling. After all, if Annie was certain about the life she wanted, then Lisbon was going to do her damnedest to make sure that she got the best opportunity, and that Annie was as safe as possible. Lisbon knew she couldn't stop her niece from choosing her own job, but she could make sure Annie at least had a clear idea of what she was getting into.

Then a stray thought occurred to Lisbon. If Annie _did_ end up spending a month at the CBI in the next couple of years, then she'd be around Jane a lot more. If Jane was still working there, obviously. Lisbon sighed, resisting the urge to drop her head in her hands as she considered what that would mean for her life. Oh well. She guessed she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

She glanced at her watch. Speaking of Jane, she should probably go get ready for the movie before he showed up on her doorstep.

xxx

Unlike when he showed up at a crime scene, Jane was punctual, knocking on her door at exactly 8:30.

Lisbon opened her door with a wide smile, coat half-on. "Ready for some spy-movie fun?"

Jane looked taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Someone's in a good mood," he murmured, helping her slip her arm into the second sleeve of her leather jacket.

"Why wouldn't I be in a good mood?" Lisbon wondered. "As you pointed out, I like spy movies."

"You do," Jane agreed. "But that isn't the only reason."

"No?" she asked.

"No," he confirmed with a shake of his head. "So what's up?"

Lisbon shrugged, biting her lip.

Jane just stared at her pointedly as they walked to his car.

She sighed. "Okay, I called Annie."

Jane grinned. "Delayed scolding for the yearbook photo?"

"Among other things," Lisbon confirmed. "Don't look to her as a source of future photos by the way."

"I figured as much," Jane said with a shrug.

"Good."

"So today's call was also a Lisbon women bonding session then, I assume." Jane suggested. "Tell me, did you talk about guns?"

Lisbon laughed. "Nope. Not this time."

Jane shook his head at her answer.

"Actually," Lisbon continued. "We talked about you."

Jane turned wary. "Me? I know I'm utterly _fascinating_ Teresa, but..."

She swatted him playfully in the arm as they reached the car. "You're something alright. And if you take me for coffee after the show, I might even tell you what that is."

"And if I don't take you for coffee?" Jane asked.

Lisbon shrugged. "Irrelevant. The coffee place I want to go to serves the tea you like."

Jane considered that. "Fair enough," he said after a moment. "Why not just tell me now though?"

"Then what will we have to talk about after the movie?" Lisbon asked innocently.

"The movie?" Jane suggested.

"I guess I just assumed you'd probably talk about that _during_ the movie," Lisbon shot back.

Jane started the car, "I can do both," he said with a shrug.

xxx

As previously agreed on, Jane bought their tickets while Lisbon paid for one large popcorn, two cokes and a package of Junior Mints. And as promised, Jane did provide Lisbon with a running commentary for the entire length of the movie. Happily, he at least had the good sense to keep his voice down so that they didn't get thrown out.

Not that Lisbon minded his antics. It was fun to lean conspiratorially close to Jane and listen as he dictated what was going to happen in each successive scene, while she pretended to be annoyed by his disparaging comments about the lead character's level of intelligence and why the villain was doomed to fail (personal involvement, a fatal mistake according to Jane).

Really, all things considered, Lisbon admitted that her muffled giggles at his scathing comments about the main character were probably louder than his observations. Luckily the theatre wasn't at all full and no one was sitting near them.

"So, enjoy the movie, did you?" Lisbon asked Jane on their way out.

"I did!" Jane said enthusiastically. "The so-called hero was particularly stupid in this one."

"Oh, he was not!" Lisbon objected.

"You're only saying that because you thought he was attractive," Jane shot back.

"Well," Lisbon said, pausing to consider his point. "He definitely was good-looking."

"Ha!" Jane said triumphantly.

"But he also wasn't as bad as you made him out to be," Lisbon defended.

"Oh come on!" Jane said in exasperation. "Trusting his so-called 'best friend' with his deepest darkest secrets? Has the man never seen a single spy movie? The best friend's always the one who betrays you. You'd think he'd know not to trust anyone if he was really that good a spy. Really, could that movie have gotten any more clichéd?"

"Maybe everyone has to trust someone, Jane," Lisbon suggested tentatively. "I would have thought that was human nature."

"I suppose," Jane muttered.

"After all, you trust me," Lisbon said softly. "At least you say you do. You certainly act like you do. Unless you're luring me into a false sense of security," she added as a joke.

Jane looked over at her, his expression suddenly serious. "I'm not."

"I didn't think so," Lisbon said, relieved. Then she shook herself out of her suddenly serious moment. "And anyway, aren't those so-called silly quirks and patterns of human nature exactly what you take advantage of to do your job? Face it Jane, you _need_ the predictability to function. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if it didn't exist."

"Still," Jane said stubbornly. "Even apart from the foolishness with the best friend, jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Moscow went up in flames? Surely it would have been one hundred times more sensible to just run down the first fire escape he saw."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't have looked nearly as cool," Lisbon countered. "And he had some pretty awesome gadgets."

"Completely unrealistic," Jane replied.

"Oh come of it. Spy movies wouldn't be nearly as fun if they were realistic," Lisbon exclaimed. "And we both know that you love the over-the-top theatre, even if you also love mocking it."

"Well, yes," Jane agreed with a grin.

"So you did like the movie," Lisbon double-checked.

Jane sighed exaggeratedly. "Yes, Lisbon. I've already told you, I did like the movie. Even if the main character was a moron."

"I liked him," Lisbon repeated stubbornly.

"Well, you liked parts of him anyway," Jane muttered.

Lisbon smirked. "And what parts would that be?"

Jane cleared his throat. "Didn't you say something about wanting coffee?" he asked.

Lisbon laughed. "Come on. Let's go find the car."

xxx

When they were comfortable settled in the coffee shop, Jane turned the conversation back to a previous topic.

"So!" he said brightly. "What did you and Annie talk about. You did promise to tell me if I took you for coffee."

"Actually, I think what I said was that I _might_ tell you," Lisbon corrected with a smirk.

"Sneaky woman," Jane replied in appreciation.

"Sometimes," Lisbon said coyly.

Jane took another sip of his tea. "Come on, give. I even bought you a cookie."

She smiled. "Okay," Lisbon said. "Annie might apply for one of the CBI internships in a year or two."

"Really?" Jane drawled.

"Yes," Lisbon said defensively. "What about it. It'd be great experience, if she wants to be a cop. Which she apparently does."

"Of course she does," Jane said with a wave of his hand. "How could she not, with her role models."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Lisbon demanded.

Jane frowned at her in obvious confusion. "It means that your niece worships the ground you walk on. You must have noticed."

Lisbon opened her mouth, only to shut it again.

Jane leaned forward, suddenly intrigued. "Or maybe you didn't. Tsk, tsk. What am I going to do with you, Teresa," he asked affectionately. "Of course she does. Reading between the lines of the odd text message or five minute phone call, not easy to do by the way, I'd say that her mother's a bit of a lunatic."

"Understatement of the year," Lisbon muttered.

Jane grinned. "Anyway, who does that leave as a role model? I gather that she doesn't see her other aunts all that often thanks to the residual tension between the Lisbon brothers. That leaves he with an encouraging eighth grade teacher or awesome Aunt Reese who's always swooping in to save the day, while carrying a gun, and who I'm guessing Dad's talked up a bit, or at least told lots of stories about. Not much of a competition, if you ask me."

"Well, whatever," Lisbon muttered, annoyed when Jane just grinned that stupid, smug, superior, _affectionate_ grin of his at her. "I just thought it might be nice to spend some time with Annie. If it works out. I mean, it won't be for a while anyway."

"You could always invite her to visit this summer," Jane pointed out.

"Hm?"

Jane laughed. "You know, take a few days off. Maybe even a whole _week_. Have your favourite niece up for a few days. I'm sure Tommy would love it if Annie got to spend a few days with a responsible female. And you know you'd love it too. Besides, you must have ridiculous amounts of vacation time accumulated."

Lisbon paused. "I'll... I'll think about it."

"Good," Jane nodded.

"If I invite her, it won't be so you can show her more of your criminal techniques," Lisbon warned.

"Course it won't," Jane agreed. "That'll just be a side benefit."

Lisbon scowled at him.

"As for the internship, I'll have to pass on some tips in my next text-message," Jane mused.

"I've already told her to do the opposite of whatever you tell her," Lisbon assured him.

Jane smirked. "Okay, just for that, tell me, what else did the two of you talk about?"

Lisbon paused. "What do you mean?"

"Earlier you implied that it was something to do with me," Jane reminded her.

A denial was on the tip of Lisbon's tongue when she reconsidered. She took a sip of her coffee, using the time to examine the man across from her. His tone was casual, teasing even, but his eyes weren't. There was curiosity there, but something else as well. Something more serious. Something that told her that her answer might just matter to him.

Lisbon replayed her earlier conversation with Annie in her head. She'd said Jane was her friend. He was her friend. Just as she was his. And she cared about him, worried about him. Maybe it was okay if he knew that.

Lisbon set down her cup of coffee. "Annie's worried about you," she said bluntly.

Jane's eyes widened. He obviously hadn't been expecting her answer. Or maybe he just hadn't been expecting her to be so direct about it. "She's worried about me?" he said with a smile, obviously trying to make light of it. "Isn't she a little young for that."

Lisbon shook her head. "She's worried that you're lonely."

Jane froze. "What did..."

"I told her we all get lonely sometimes," Lisbon said softly.

"Oh."

Lisbon smirked. "It's okay Jane. She's just a little worried about you. She's not losing sleep about it or anything. But this is the sort of thing that happens when you're friends with someone."

Jane leaned forward. "Is it?" he asked.

Lisbon bit her lip. "Yeah."

"Hm," he said, examining his tea cup.

"She also wanted to know if we were friends," Lisbon continued, taking another sip of her coffee.

Jane glanced up at her sharply. "And what did you say?"

Lisbon shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "I told her we were. What else would I tell her?"

"What else indeed," Jane murmured.

"Should I not have told her that?" Lisbon wondered.

Jane's eyes narrowed. "_What?_ Of course you should have... I mean... We're friends Lisbon. Of course we are."

"That's what I thought," Lisbon agreed, hoping that she looked calmer than she felt. Her heart was suddenly beating about twice as fast as usual.

"Good,' Jane said awkwardly.

"And while we're on the subject," Lisbon continued. "I've noticed that you've seemed less tired these past few days. Insomnia been better then?"

"Yeah," Jane confirmed absently. "I slept at least five hours the last two nights, which is better than usual."

"Good," Lisbon said decisively. "Because I was also thinking, you might want to take up hiking or power-walking, or swimming or something. I know better than to suggest jogging. But regular physical exercise is supposed to help you sleep."

"Are you trying to get me in shape, Agent Lisbon?" Jane asked, his eyes suddenly twinkling.

"I'll start with physically active," Lisbon said dryly. "We can move on to 'in shape' later."

Jane sighed. "It's not that I don't appreciate..."

Lisbon decided to ignore his input. "And I don't want you to spend any more nights just wandering the streets of Sacramento when you can't sleep. That's just dangerous, Jane."

Jane looked up sharply. "How did you..."

She shrugged. "Actually I guessed. But you just confirmed it. Next time you get the urge to wander, call me would you? It'll make me feel better. Oh, and you're always telling me to eat more vegetables, but I'm not always quite so sure that you eat regularly either. And when was the last time you went to a doctor? I know you hate them, but you really should get regular check-ups. If you want, I have a friend who just found a new GP, and they're still accepting new patients. I could get you the contact information..."

"Lisbon!" Jane interrupted.

"Yeah?" she asked, shaken out of her train of thought, and idly wondering how often Jane went to the dentist. Someone really needed to take him in hand, make sure he didn't somehow end up in an early grave because of sheer foolishness...

"I have a GP," Jane assured her.

"Oh," she said feeling a bit silly. "Well, good then. He can tell you to exercise more."

"I usually do laps at the community pool a couple nights a week," Jane muttered.

_"What?"_ Lisbon asked, clearly shocked.

"I like to swim," Jane muttered again.

"I didn't know you..." Lisbon started to say, then she stopped. How was she going to finish that sentence? I didn't know you willingly performed any exercise of any kind? I didn't know you even knew how to exercise? It all sounded rather insulting all of a sudden.

"Yeah, well, I do," Jane told her. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd tease me about it, or just smugly extol the virtues of regular exercise. But I could tell that you were suddenly gearing up to lie awake worrying about my level of physical activity, so..."

"Oh," Lisbon said softly, knowing she probably had a ridiculous smile on her face.

"Yeah," Jane continued. "I have to say, I thought you worried about me before, then I met Tommy and realized you hadn't even really gotten started. Until now, apparently."

"Shut up," Lisbon muttered self-consciously. "So I worry a little. What of it?"

"A _little_," Jane laughed slightly.

"Shut up," Lisbon muttered a second time.

"No, it's okay," Jane assured her. "I can live with it."

She looked up at him, hopefully.

Suddenly he smiled, fast and bright. "You do know that this arrangement means that you're going to have to accept that I might worry about you too, when you do things that are unnecessarily dangerous."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes.

Jane laughed softly. "That's right, Teresa. I'm just putting it out there so you can get used to the idea."

Lisbon decided not to dignify his remark with a response.

Jane just grinned. "Come on. I'll drive you home. After all, you need sleep too."

"Oh hush," Lisbon murmured.

"No, no," Jane replied. "Can't have your losing sleep. I have it on good authority that's not healthy."

"Don't make fun," she replied.

"I'm not," he insisted. "Well, not completely anyway."

"Okay," Lisbon said, deciding it was probably best to let he matter drop. She fell in step with Jane as they walked back to his car.

"Hey Teresa," he said softly as he opened the door.

"Yeah?" she asked, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"We are friends," he confirmed. "Whatever else... We are friends."

She just smiled at him.

xxx

The drive back to Lisbon's apartment was mostly silent. She didn't mind. She could use the time to collect her thoughts. And while the two of them were quiet, they weren't uncomfortable with each other, which Lisbon figured was a good sign.

When he pulled up at her condo, Jane walked her to her door and waited for her to find her keys and let herself in.

Lisbon broke the silence first. "Hey Jane?" she said, turning in her doorway.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You owe me a letter on Monday," she reminded him.

He smiled slowly. "I know," he promised her.

Lisbon nodded, before shutting the door behind her. "Good," she murmured to herself, as she walked to the window and watched him drive away. "Good."

xxx

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Here it is. The oft-threatened plot. I don't really have anything else to say. I request open minds.

Chapter 7

xxx

Lisbon got the letter owed to her on Monday morning. And she continued to get letters, letters that she kept tucked away in a box in her bedroom. It seemed important somehow, to have a record of her correspondence with Jane. The exchange was something she wanted to keep a record of. And she kept them all. Each note, no matter how short, or how long. Every letter was tucked away in the box, for safekeeping. What Lisbon was keeping them safe from, she wasn't quite sure.

But she was keeping them safe. No matter the content, no matter how silly. Just as the length varied, so did the content. On both sides.

The letters, both written and received were snapshots. Snapshots of how the two of them felt, of their moods, of their odd sort of relationship..

Reading a few snippets at random gave an interesting view of their friendship, that was certain.

xxx

_Dear Lisbon,_

_What's your favourite type of cookie? I think I like peanut butter. Which is sometimes hard to come by, what with all the allergies nowadays. It's a shame really._

_I don't quite understand the modern mania for cupcakes. They're just little cakes. I suppose they're more portable. But really, entire stores devote to cupcakes? One opened up just down the street actually. Feel like getting a snack?_

_[...]_

x

_Dear Jane_

_The other day I found myself in a kitchen store, searching for a housewarming gift for a friend of mine, and mesmerized by the sheer number of gadgets available to the modern cook. Who has room for all of them in their cupboards? I can understand the need for some of them, but all of them? Really? Electric juicers, salad spinners, a whole array of various mixers and choppers (one of which I swear was designed specifically for avocados), apple-corers, garlic-peelers (do people not own knives anymore?), onion-keepers, egg separators (can't you just use the shells?), iced-tea makers, and this thing whose only function I swear was to boil eggs. Do people really use these things? Or do they just buy them and shove them in the back of their cupboards to collect dust?_

_I get that I'm not a gourmet chef, but I get by (don't laugh at me, I can cook!), and I have never once felt I was missing any of the items I saw._

_No wonder people used to just give toasters. At least that has a demonstrable function. In the end I just bought a really nice casserole dish. Everyone can always use one of those, right?_

_[...]_

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_You were hovering again today Teresa. And you had that look on your face, the one that means you're worried I was about to go off the edge. I'm not about to go off the edge. At least I don't think I am. I wonder if I'd know if I was about to go crazy. I hope so, but maybe not. Great. Now that's going to keep me up at night. And if I'm vaguely concerned, you're probably about to have a coronary._

_Don't have a coronary please, Teresa. To the best of my knowledge, I'm fine. And I'd rather not have to worry about you having a coronary on my behalf on top of it all._

_Sometimes this apparently never-ending case just gets wearying. But if you like, we can have some tea in your office, and you can watch me to reassure yourself that I'm not going to self-destruct._

_I'll bring the tea. _

_-Jane_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm having a bad day._

_I'm having a bad day and I don't know why. There's nothing really wrong with today. Nothing that should make me uneasy, I just feel vaguely blah. It's frustrating._

_Will you show me a card trick as a distraction?_

_-Lisbon_

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Have you ever considered a different career? Not that I'm advocating it, obviously. I think you're particularly well suited for your current career, as it happens. But I was wondering if there was ever a time where you thought about doing something different. When I was six I wanted to be a pilot._

_Really I think I just wanted to be able to fly..._

_[...]_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Do try and remember that our various law enforcement partners weren't put on this earth simply to amuse you. _

_Jerk._

_-L_

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Rigsby has new photos of Connor. If I were you, I'd wander by when he's sitting at his desk looking bored and casually ask after his son. He'll be only too happy to show them to you. Really. The man needs barely the slightest provocation._

_Besides, after you've seen the photos'll be the perfect time to slip into the conversation that you've bought Connor another gift._

_You big softie._

_[...]_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Are you alright? You seem tired today. Have you tried those breathing exercises I told you about? _

_Or is it just a bad day? Would some company help? You know my couch is always free._

_Or I could just tell you about my experience at a friend's baby shower to entertain you. _

_[...]_

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_This case has me thinking. D'you think I missed out on anything significant not going to high school? I suppose I missed the opportunity to be pigeon-holed into a specific social group, the effects of which would have lasted my entire life. Somehow I'm okay with that._

_But I do wonder... what would life be like now if I'd actually gotten the chance to attend a science lab, been forced to wear those ridiculous goggles? Or if I'd had to deal with cafeteria table politics. Or really, just had some sort of structure to my day._

_[...]_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Annie can't come for a visit this month. Her Mom apparently wants to take her on some sort of mother-daughter trip. You can imagine how thrilled Annie is about that. I feel way worse for her than for me. At least her visit to Sacramento is just postponed. I don't have to deal with Trina._

_Still... I had kind of planned things that we could do together. Just a few..._

_I don't suppose you want to come over and watch romantic comedies or movies with excessive amounts of guns?_

_-Lisbon_

x

The letters continued. They kept track of each other. They told each other things. They both invested.

At least, Lisbon hoped it was happening on both sides. She was pretty sure it was.

The one thing she knew for sure was that he mattered. Jane had somehow entangled himself into her life.

She worried, about him, about herself, about what was going to happen.

And like everyone else who was close to her (even if there weren't that many people who fell into that category), she was determined to try to take care of him to the best of her ability.

Whether he liked it or not.

xxx

Trying to remain out of sight, Lisbon glanced around the lobby of the abandoned small-town theatre, knowing her team was getting into position. She could see Jane, his hands tied to a pole behind him as he worked furiously to get them free. She could tell he was getting close to freeing one of them, no doubt as his captor intended.

She could see his captor too, the man she assumed was Red John, at least if Jane's facial expression was anything to go by. The man was watching Jane closely. He looked amused, like he was planning on waiting until Jane was almost free before shooting him. Lisbon shuddered and turned her attention back to her consultant, trying to gauge what was going on.

Jane didn't look like Lisbon had expected he would in this situation (and she'd had multiple nightmares over the years that had provided her with any number of possibilities). He looked angry, certainly, angry, frustrated, maybe a little helpless. But he didn't look completely unhinged. There was no obvious insanity, no bloodthirsty need for revenge. He looked guilty, and afraid, emotional really. Still determined, but not... not... not uncaring. Not, for lack of a better word, evil. She'd no doubt he would commit murder if he could, but there would be hesitation first (hesitation was probably what'd gotten him in the situation he was in right now), and there'd be a reaction afterwards.

Lisbon released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, an odd sense of relief settling over her. She admitted that after Panzer's murder, she'd wondered... Wondered how treacherous Jane's mind had become.

She saw Jane's hand shaking, trying to worm his way free of the ropes and get to his pocket. He obviously had some kind of firearm there. Red John definitely had one. He was pointing it at her consultant now.

Lisbon flashed back to a similar scene. Two men, two guns, a different Red John, a decoy, a dupe. She remembered the outcome. She couldn't... absolutely couldn't... Not again.

And she wasn't talking about taking a bullet in her shoulder.

Whatever happened, it needed to be clean. No room for misinterpretation this time.

So Lisbon did the only thing she could under the circumstances (and in spite of the fact that she hadn't gotten confirmation in her earpiece from Cho that he was in position. She knew Rigsby was. Hopefully that would be enough).

She needed to distract Red John from Jane, before her consultant got himself shot.

Ignoring Rigsby's voice in her ear telling her backup would be there in five minutes, she made herself known.

"George Wallis?" Lisbon called out as she stood, gun raised and steady. "This is Agent Teresa Lisbon of the CBI. We've the building surrounded. I need you to put the gun down."

The stranger turned towards her, an oddly calm look on his face, still pointing his gun at Jane. "Ah, Agent Lisbon, at last. I've wanted to meet you in person for quite some time now."

"Put the gun down, Mr. Wallis," she repeated quietly, walking forward slowly.

He smiled. "Oh, no need for such formality. You're more than welcome to call me by another name. You do know who I am, don't you Teresa?"

Lisbon's heart was pounding, but she kept her steps slow and steady. "So you are Red John then?" she asked calmly.

George's smile widened. "I am," he confirmed.

Lisbon shrugged deliberately. "We've heard that before, from someone else."

"What can I say? I was thinking about retiring. I thought I'd let a friend deliver that message to Patrick for me," Red John explained. "Unfortunately for poor Timothy, Patrick here had other plans for my golden years."

"Don't you dare pin this on him," Lisbon growled.

Red John grinned, the first show of emotion Lisbon had seen from the serial killer. "Extraordinarily protective, aren't you Agent Lisbon," Red John observed, his knowing smile sending chills down Lisbon's spine. "I'll warrant it led you to show yourself earlier than you planned to. Am I right?"

"Lisbon!" Jane called, obviously trying to insert himself into the conversation.

"Shut up Jane!" she snapped. She needed to keep the serial killer's attention on her. He and Jane obviously had some kind of horrible, dangerous, toxic connection. As long as Red John's attention was on her, she had far more control of the situation.

"Giving him orders, huh," Red john asked. "I suppose that's your right. Mr. Jane is on your team. How's that been going for you, _Agent_ Lisbon?"

"We close a lot of cases," she said evenly. If Red John thought that particular would get to her, he was slipping. She'd heard it all before. Many, many times.

Red John nodded. "You do, and you work so smoothly together too. Quite a fascinating _partnership_ you have going on, Agent Lisbon. It almost makes me sad for what's going to happen next, but really I have no choice. It's only a matter of time before Patrick manages to reach his gun, and well, after what happened to poor Timothy, I'm certainly not willing to risk _that._"

"Put the gun down, George," Lisbon said slowly. "Just put it down. Put it down and we can go back to the CBI and talk about all this."

Red John sighed. "You don't actually think I'm going to be satisfied with _talking_, do you Agent? I'm getting so tired of it all. I thought I could stop a few years ago. I really did. Possibly the only error I've made in years. The power you feel when kill someone, it's... well, you'd know I suppose. I'm sure you've taken a life."

"Not like you have," Lisbon said calmly. "Not slowly, not after bludgeoning someone over the head and cutting them up with a knife."

"No, I suppose you were merciful," Red John murmured. "At least you thought you were. You probably even think it's necessary. I'd agree with you Agent Lisbon. Death _is _necessary."

"Lisbon!" Jane called frantically. She ignored him.

"Death is inevitable, murder on the other hand," Lisbon replied. "Now, I'll ask you one more time, put the gun down."

Red John smiled. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Teresa. I'm well aware that I'll almost certainly die today. It's just a question of who goes with me. And I've decided that I'd rather like Patrick to see this."

Quick as a flash he turned his gun on Lisbon.

She fired without a second thought.

She heard a bullet fire in her general direction, hitting a stack of boxes maybe a foot to her left. In his hurry, Red John had shot slightly wide. At almost the same time she heard a third gunshot coming from the south side of the warehouse, saw it strike the now deceased George Wallis. It seemed Cho had gotten in position after all.

She approached the body, Rigsby and Van Pelt behind her, each approaching from different directions.

"Nice shot, Boss," Rigsby said.

She shrugged, handing him her gun as per CBI procedure.

"It was obviously self-defence," Van Pelt said, obviously attempting to be comforting.

Lisbon met the younger woman's eyes. "I know," she said softly but firmly.

Van Pelt's eyes widened briefly, then she nodded in understanding.

After glancing at the body to make sure Red John really was dead, Lisbon patted Van Pelt on the arm and instructing her to call in the death. And to take of Red John's weapon into evidence _herself_. Then Lisbon jogged over to her consultant. The one she was now dreading dealing with.

At least he was still alive for her to deal with. She did her best to ignore the near-overwhelming relief flooding her chest. She didn't have time to deal with that. There were things she needed to do. She couldn't collapse, sobbing like some sort of stereotypical emotional female.

"Jane," she murmured, her hands immediately moving to the ropes binding his hands.

She watched her consultant careful. He looked completely shocked. And he hadn't taken his eyes off Red John. "Patrick," she said again, a little more loudly.

That got his attention. Jane turned, now staring at her as intently as he'd been staring at the body.

As she finally freed his hands, Lisbon was suddenly glad that her team had decided to stay back and give the two of them a little space. "You okay?" she asked softly, irritated to hear that her voice was shaking.

"I..." Jane shook out his wrists, glancing at the red marks on them.

Lisbon ran her thumb over one of them. "We'll get that looked at in a minute," she promised him.

He shook his head. "It's fine," he assured her. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" she asked. "You've had kind of a rough day."

The sudden arrival of the coroner and a whole group of other law enforcement personnel distracted her consultant. He turned to stare at the body on the floor again. "You shot him," Jane said dully. "You shot him. You got his attention, and you kept it. And you waited until... until it was definitely self defence. Until there was no question. Then you just _shot_ him."

Lisbon took a deep breath and wondered how to explain it to him. In the end she decided the truth was the only thing she could offer. "I couldn't do another trial, Jane. I just couldn't."

Jane turned back towards her, his eyes suddenly focussed on hers. Lisbon was so relieved to see the return of his laser-like perception that she welcomed the scrutiny. She didn't care what he saw. Apparently he saw enough. "I understand," he said after a second.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Do you?"

"Yes," Jane whispered with a nod. "That must have been difficult for you the first time."

Lisbon shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with all of the focus on her. "Not to mention, you've already told a jury you shot Red John. Only so many times that's going to work."

"I probably would have gone to prison," Jane agreed.

"I couldn't do another trial," Lisbon repeated softly.

Jane glanced at the body that was now being loaded onto a gurney. He gritted his teeth. "I... I have to think."

Lisbon's face fell. She knew that tone of voice. She'd expected it. "Okay."

Jane's head whipped around and Lisbon could hear the beginnings of anger in his voice. "That's all? Just okay?"

She shrugged helplessly. She knew he probably felt like she'd taken something from him, but she couldn't regret what she'd done. Not for a second. Not when it meant he was still standing in front of her, free to walk out. "What else is there? I don't regret it. I'm glad he's dead."

Jane closed his eyes briefly. "Me too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"We can talk more after you've thought?" Lisbon suggested hopefully.

She watched something flicker across his face. Disappointment, pity, she wasn't sure. Before she could examine further, he nodded and abruptly turned and walked away.

xxx

They didn't talk after.

Jane only stuck around long enough to give a brief statement. Lisbon suspected he only bothered because he knew they'd chase him down if he didn't. Then he disappeared, ostensibly to get some air.

Apparently he needed a lot of air.

He didn't come back.

Lisbon wasn't really surprised.

She could live with this. She was upset he was gone. She missed him. It was weird, the CBI without Jane.

Particularly the feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when she walked into her office the next morning, knowing that her usual morning note wouldn't be there.

Given everything that had happened between them, their foolish correspondence was a strange thing to miss. But she did.

She'd gotten used to having a pen pal. She'd gotten used to a lot of things.

She'd just have to re-adjust.

She _would _readjust.

And she told herself that each time she felt her eyes travelling towards the empty couch in the bullpen, or the box full of letters under her bed.

She needed to accept that Jane was gone. He obviously wanted out of her life, out of this world, now that Red John was gone.

Lisbon'd always known why he was working with them.

This was inevitable. She wished she'd had time to say a proper goodbye, but you couldn't have anything. Lisbon knew there was no point in searching for him; Patrick Jane was awfully good at escaping detection when he wanted to (besides, he deserved his privacy; he deserved a chance to heal). She'd be surprised if she ever heard from again.

Three days later a letter came for her in the mail.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I'm sorry that I didn't call. I couldn't._

_I didn't want to just disappear. I really didn't. My goal wasn't to hurt you. But I just couldn't stay._

_I couldn't. You've always deserved better than me, Teresa. I'm dangerous to be around. _

_You might be the best friend I've ever had in my entire life. I don't know why I'm telling you that. I don't know what my life is anymore, without him to chase. He's gone. You made sure of that. And it was really him this time. You destroyed him. He wanted you to. Or at least, he wanted someone to. Probably not you. He wanted to take you with him. You, then me. Unfortunately for George Wallis, aka. Red John, you're quicker on the draw._

_You nearly took the bullet meant for me._

_If you had... If he'd gotten someone else... I need to get away. I need to stop bringing disaster around with me. I need to figure out what's left, if anything. And you can't be there. Because if you were, oh Teresa, I shudder to think of what I might say to you now if I saw you. My mind can be a dark and dangerous place, as you know only too well. I can't subject either of us to that right now._

_You did your job. And you did it well. My way of doing things always did go against the grain._

_Please don't worry about me. Or try not to at least. I'll try to write periodically, to let you know that I'm okay. Besides, I've kind of gotten in the habit of writing you letters._

_I'm not going to give you a return address though. I think the temptation would be too great for you. You'd just show up on my doorstep, and I can't have that. I need time. I need to sort through what's left of my brain, of my sanity. Besides, I won't have a return address to send. I think I'll keep moving for a while. Maybe see the small towns of California when they're not tainted by murder._

_We've been following death around for years Teresa, and I need to stop. I was never solving crimes for the same reason you were. I'm not that good a person._

_For that I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry._

_I will write. I promise._

_Until next time,_

_Love Jane_

x

Lisbon felt tears pricking in her eyes. She'd never expected to hear from him again, but apparently Jane was going to continue on his side of the correspondence.

It was more than she'd expected.

She was glad he was okay. Or at least okay_ish._ He was alive.

She could give him his space if he wanted.

She wondered when the next letter would come.

Xxx

TBC

Okay, don't shoot me. Please. This was always going to be the plot. It was. I very deliberately chose letters for more than one reason. There will be more letters, I promise. They just won't be delivered personally. (Okay, some of them kind of will, but... it's complicated.) And also, I know, I skipped Annie's visit in the summer. But the timing really didn't work in my head. I think I'll bring her back later though. You'll see. You'll see...

Look on the bright side, Red John's conveniently dead now!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So glad that everyone is mostly behind the plot. That is exciting. I know it wasn't what some people were expecting, but seriously, I find it so much easier to just get rid of Red John. I really do. Anyway, on with the plot! (Since I was threatened with no more cookies if I did not update quickly...)

Chapter 8

xxx

To Lisbon's surprise, the next letter from Jane arrived in her mailbox a mere two days after the first. She couldn't resist a grin when she saw it, fishing it out from among the junk mail. When Jane had mentioned that he planned on writing to her "periodically," she hadn't expected that to actually translate to, "later this week," or "in a couple days." She'd figured a week between letters at an absolute minimum. Not that she was upset to be proven wrong of course. Not at all.

In a way it made a kind of sense. As Jane had said in his last letter, they'd gotten awfully used to writing each other letters.

x

_Napa Valley, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_How are you? I haven't heard on the news of any devastating, gruesome, or high-profile murders, so I hope that means things are relatively calm in your life. Or, as calm as they can be when one investigates homicides for a living, I suppose. Which is not to say that your life is chaotic, obviously. I'm aware that I'm not expressing myself well at the moment. It's probably in part because I'm used to knowing the answers to those sorts of questions. I'm sorry. But I'm too lazy to get another sheet of paper and start again (I also know I can count on you to understand a little). The issue is also complicated by the fact that I hope you're finding your work fulfilling, but in order for you to have something to keep you busy, someone has to die in a horrible way. It seems a little odd to be rooting for murder is all, even if I know only too well that if there hasn't been one today, there will be one soon enough. That's just the way of the world._

_Maybe I'll hope for new evidence on a cold case instead._

_Not as glamorous as a more recent killing of course, but it does come with an extra air of mystery. I know you'd like the challenge of that._

_It feels odd not to wake up and drive to a crime scene. Not to hear my phone ring, and it be one of the team, or you, calling me and telling me to meet them somewhere because we have a new case. Not necessarily odd in a bad way (I won't lie to you, Teresa), but just odd. Different. I suppose everyone feels like that after a major life change. The past week has certainly been that._

_I hope that you're adjusting, Teresa. I know it can't be easy for you either, even if you're not dealing with quite the same things. Look on the bright side, your paperwork will probably be cut in half. _

_I think the change will be good for both of us, if a bit strange at first. Although, it doesn't help that as I drive around California, I keep seeing signs for places that I recognize. Various crime scenes flashing in my brain. Remember the scene where we found a local redhead bound and buried in the dirt? The killer was the owner of the restaurant where she worked? I'm not ten miles from it. When I stopped for a cup of tea in town, I actually saw the local Sheriff strolling down the street looking official and self-important, as he was wont to do. I had the sudden urge to walk over and challenge him to rock-paper-scissors for old time's sake. You'll be glad to hear that I restrained myself, trying to keep out of trouble at the moment._

_It really is a lovely little place. I only stayed a couple of days. Then on the road again, picking a direction at random. It'll be an adventure._

_After all, who knows what I'll find?_

_Maybe nothing. If I do find something, I'll be sure to let you know._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon smiled, looking over her letter. It seemed that Jane wasn't wallowing in despondency or self-pity. She wouldn't say that he was doing unbelievably well (that was to be expected), but he also didn't seem like he was about to just fall right off the edge. That was a good sign.

Not that he would tell her if he was about to fall off the edge. Driving would certainly give Jane a lot of time alone with his thoughts. And for all his talk of random directions, he certainly hadn't turned towards Malibu and what was waiting there for him. Or maybe he had, only to leave again. Lisbon didn't know. It was exactly the sort of thing he wouldn't talk about. Maybe if she'd been able to talk to him in person; she could've asked him then, but she didn't have that luxury anymore.

She just had his letters. At least she could still enjoy those.

Then Lisbon frowned. She was used to receiving letters from Jane, and she was thrilled to still be receiving them, she really was. There was just one problem though; she was also used to writing _back._

She wanted to write back now. She wanted that very much. She wanted to ask him if he was finding the beauty of all the vineyards a nice change from the city. She wanted to know if he'd indulged in any winery tours to pass the time. She wanted to know if he was just spending his days driving and/or wandering around small towns in California and then finding a cheap motel to sleep in (or more likely, to lay awake in). She wanted to know if he missed her (though if she was honest, she'd never actually _ask_ that).

But he hadn't given her a return address. He'd told her he wouldn't. Didn't want to. And even if he had wanted to, she knew he was moving around. There was no return address to give.

Besides, Lisbon didn't want to push. If Jane needed time alone with his thoughts, she was going to respect his decision enough not to track him down. There were easier ways of doing that then through letters (even if post-marks _could_ be tracked).

No, she'd just have to accept that Jane needed time to himself, and that he needed to recover.

She'd just have to be grateful that she was getting letters at all. At least they let her know he was okay.

xxx

The next letter came the following Monday.

Its arrival was a relief. Not because Lisbon'd been afraid Jane would abruptly stop writing (he might obviously, but she figured it was unlikely to happen after the _first_ letter), or because she'd thought something had happened to him in the past four days (she was pretty sure even Jane wasn't that bad), but because she desperately needed a distraction. The team had landed a new case the Friday before, and it hadn't been a pretty one.

Two young teenage boys found dead in a ravine in southern California, killed, it turned out, by their science teacher after they pulled one too many pranks, humiliating the man in front of the class and then afterwards the entire school. He'd been a little bit mentally unbalanced, finally snapping and beating them to death after an after-school tutoring session ended particularly badly. They'd been fifteen, each with grieving families and a school that might never completely heal.

Throw an ambitious principal, desirous of saving the school's reputation and an ineffectual local chief of police into the mix and it'd been an exhausting mess to say the least.

Lisbon could really use a distraction from all of that. She hoped Jane wasn't about to drop some massive bombshell on her in his newest letter. She wasn't sure she could deal with it.

Slowly, she unfolded the piece of paper.

x

_Novato, California_

_Greetings from the road Teresa,_

_I'm still indulging in a nomadic lifestyle. Kind of reminds me of when I was younger, and my Dad and I sometimes travelled with the local circus. Of course, now there's no elephant next door that sometimes decides to get rowdy in the middle of the night, keeping everyone awake. On the other hand, there's no one to play poker with either, although I suppose if I was so inclined there's always the local bar. (Don't worry Lisbon, I'm not in the mood to get my nose broken, so I won't anger a bunch of burly locals.)_

_There is something soothing about travelling though. You never know what will happen, what or who you might encounter. Just last night, I stumbled upon a local big band concert in the park. It was a pleasant way to spend an evening. The trumpeter playing the solos in particular was quite good. It's definitely beautiful country. I even decided to try a bit of a hike through the woods (don't gloat, Teresa). The woods really are lovely, dark and deep, so quiet and sort of separate from everything else. It puts things in perspective, at least until it's time to leave and reality trickles back into your brain. All because you can't stay in them forever, tempting as that sometimes seems._

_Of course, in that scenario they do have an old-fashioned candy shop on the main street. I may have bought myself a lollipop. And I wouldn't know for certain, but there's a chance that a small box of sweets may be heading your way, Teresa. They had coconut-coated chocolate truffles after all. (No, I am not going to tell you how I know those are your favourite...)_

_Much as I enjoyed my time here, I think I'll move on tomorrow. Getting itchy to be driving again. Not sure where I'll end up, but I'll send you a letter when I get there._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon bit her lip, pleased by the note (and the fact that apparently she was getting chocolates). Jane's letter _had_ indeed been the distraction she'd hoped for.

But it was something else too. Much as his letters sounded reasonably upbeat given the circumstances (she suspected as much for her benefit as his own), Jane wasn't on vacation. He wasn't going to show up in two weeks with a tan and a bag full of souvenirs (well, probably not at least). The man was driving around California trying to figure the rest of his life out. Who knew if he'd ever settle down anywhere again? It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that she never saw him again. If that was the case she hoped he at least eventually settled down enough to send her a return address so she could write back occasionally.

Lisbon bit her lip. And there was the crux of the matter.

She got that Jane needed time, she really did. It was why she hadn't tried to find him. She knew he'd changed his cell phone number (Van Pelt had tried calling to leave some sort of comforting voice message after everything only to find that the number was apparently no longer in service).

Lisbon understood that Jane had a whole whack of stuff that he needed to sort out. Fine. She wouldn't impose.

Bu why should he get absolutely _everything_ his own way? Surely he could suck it up enough to give her one _little_ thing. Just _one._ She almost never asked anything of him. (Sometimes he gave her things without her having to ask, but she didn't often make demands, especially as most of the time she figured it was pointless.)

And why should he get the comfort of the old familiar pen-pal arrangement while denying her that same right?

She _wanted_ to write back. She really, _really_ wanted to.

What if she did it, but did it in a way that didn't impose on Jane's solitude? What if she gave him the choice? She wouldn't force anything on him, but she definitely wanted to keep the lines of communication open, _both ways._ And maybe then they'd both find some sort of comfort in the familiarity of the letters. Plus, it'd be a way of unloading some of her own thoughts...

It could work... There was a way... Well, there might be. She thought there might be. Particularly since Jane was including locations in his letters. That was interesting, almost like he _wanted_ her to be able to track his movements, even if she never knew exactly where he was. Jane almost never did anything without a reason, even if he wasn't aware of it at the time. Lisbon was going to consider the locations a tentative invitation to write back.

After all, she had a general idea where he was headed. He seemed to be heading west, and not very quickly. Best guess was that he'd stop in Petaluma or San Raphael next. If Lisbon had to guess, she'd go with Petaluma. For some reason she didn't think Jane was likely to head south right away.

Which meant she might be able to get letters to him, eventually. The trick would be in getting him the first one...

If she could do that, she might have a way of sending him more.

Lisbon bit her lip and pulled several sheets of paper out of a drawer, determined to at least try. After all, the worst thing that could happen was it didn't work, and then she'd be no worse off than she was now.

xxx

_Dear Jane,_

_I hope you're doing alright. You seem to be based on your letters. I'm glad. I hope you don't mind my writing to you. I know you need time to yourself, to sort things out and I'm in no way trying to encroach on that, I swear._

_I just... I just want to write you a letter from time to time. That's all. I'm not asking you for an address. I'm well aware that you won't have a steady one. And I'm not trying to force you to read anything I write. I do hope that you get this letter. I have no way of knowing if you will. But if you do, and you want me to write to you, keep including the town you're staying in at the top of your letters. If you abruptly stop, I'll know what that means and I won't try to contact you again._

_But if you do want to read a letter from me from time to time, check General Delivery at the main post office when you get to a new town. If we're lucky, maybe I'll hit one on your random route. If not, well, at least I'll have tried. _

_It's like you said, I've gotten used to writing these letters. I'd like to continue. I hope you don't mind._

_-Lisbon_

xxx

Lisbon wrote out several copies of the letter and sealed them, knowing what she'd be doing with tomorrow's day off.

She woke up bright and early, determined to get things underway. Probably best to make the most straightforward stop first.

Jane's old long-term stay motel in Sacramento. Lisbon knew it was a long shot, but if he did come back to town, even if only for a night, then he'd probably choose to stay somewhere familiar. Lisbon walked up to the desk, pleased to see that Maria, the owner's wife was behind it.

"Agent Lisbon," Maria greeted her with a smile. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. I haven't heard from Patrick since he left, I'm afraid."

Lisbon smiled back. Jane had certainly picked a nondescript motel with friendly owners. "I know," she replied. "I wasn't expecting you to have seen him. I was just wondering..."

"Yes?" Maria asked.

Lisbon took a breath, and pulled the letter from her purse. "If you do happen to see Jane by some chance, could you please give him this?" she asked hopefully.

Maria glanced at the letter before meeting her eyes sympathetically. "Of course I can," she replied. "I'll just leave it here beside the cash register, and I'll be sure to tell my husband and that unreliable nephew of mine about it. Patrick was always a good tenant, even if he kept odd hours, but that's none of my business. Are you expecting him to be back?"

Lisbon shrugged. "Not really," she admitted. "I just thought, on the off chance..."

"I understand," Maria said nodding. "I'll keep it here, just in case."

"Thanks," Lisbon said. "Now, I should let you get back to work."

Maria sent her a final smile, although it was a little sad. "You too, I imagine. It was lovely seeing you again Agent Lisbon."

"You too," Lisbon replied before heading back to her car. She had a bit of driving ahead of her now.

xxx

Lisbon walked up to the porch of the house nervously, well-aware that under the circumstances she was probably the last person the woman on the other side of the door would want to see. But she figured there was a good chance Jane would get here eventually, and she wanted to leave her letter behind, just in case.

Steeling herself slightly, Lisbon knocked on the door.

A few minutes later it opened slowly. "Hello," Rosalind Harker said in the same familiar voice.

"Ms. Harker," Lisbon said gently. "It's Agent Lisbon, from the CBI. Do you remember me?"

The woman bit her lip. "Of course I remember you, Agent Lisbon."

"I wondered if I could have a minute of your time," Lisbon continued hopefully.

"Of course," Rosalind said, opening the door. "Where are my manners? Please, come in." The blind woman led Lisbon to a pair of chairs in the living room.

Lisbon wasn't quite sure where to start. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said after a moment.

Rosalind shook her head. "I don't blame you for what happened, if that's why your here. You don't need to apologize to me."

"It was never my intention to cause you pain," Lisbon said awkwardly.

Rosalind shook her head again. "No, I blame Roy for most of that, or whatever his name really was. Do you really think he killed all of those people?" she asked softly.

Lisbon shut her eyes briefly. "I do. I'm sorry. And I know for sure that the man I shot that day almost killed me, and would have killed my consultant if I hadn't fired first."

"Ah yes," Rosalind said with half a smile. "Patrick. He was always very kind to me."

"I doubt he'd see it that way," Lisbon said dryly.

"I suppose not," Rosalind admitted. "I heard that he left afterwards?"

"Yes," Lisbon confirmed. "I think he's attempting to figure it all out."

"Aren't we all," Rosalind murmured.

Lisbon nodded in acknowledgement, momentarily forgetting that the other woman couldn't see her. "Actually, that's why I'm here," she admitted. "I was wondering... I know I'm in no position to ask a favour of you, but I wouldn't be surprised if Patrick does decide to visit you one day, and if he does..."

"You have something you want me to give him," Rosalind guessed with a knowing smile.

Lisbon released a breath of relief. The woman had always been oddly courteous and understanding. "Yeah," she admitted. "A letter."

Rosalind's smile widened. "Of course I'll pass it along if I see him," she said, taking the letter Lisbon handed her.

Lisbon stood. "I should get going. I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for talking to me."

"Of course," Rosalind said softly.

Lisbon paused. "Unless there was something you wanted to ask _me_," she said gently.

Rosalind paused, then she shook her head. "You know, I think I'd rather not know."

"I understand," Lisbon said.

"You must think me awfully foolish about all of this, after everything that's happened," Rosalind continued, walking her to the door.

Lisbon shook her head. "Not at all. I think everyone turns a blind eye to the faults of the people they love at one time or another. I can understand that."

Rosalind nodded, "Even after all of it, I don't regret meeting Roy," the blind woman confided as she opened the door. "I don't know why..."

"I am sorry that you were hurt by this," Lisbon said again when the other woman trailed off.

"I believe you," Rosalind replied. "And I'll give your letter to Patrick if he happens to drop by to try and make amends, or whatever it is he's doing."

"Thank you," Lisbon said sincerely.

"And you'll forgive me if I don't say that I hope to see you soon, Agent Lisbon," Rosalind said with a hint of a smile.

Lisbon found a smile of her own. "I hope you won't need to," she replied. "Goodbye Ms. Harker."

"Goodbye Agent Lisbon," the other woman said, before closing the door behind her.

Lisbon shook her head as she walked determinedly back to her car. She was glad that was over. Time for a slightly easier visit next.

xxx

"Teresa!" Madeleine Hightower exclaimed in pleased surprise when Lisbon walked in her office door. "Please come in."

"Thank you ma'am," Lisbon said as she walked inside the small county sheriff's office.

Hightower smiled ruefully. "Teresa, I'm not your boss anymore. You don't have to call me ma'am."

"Old habits," Lisbon said with a shrug.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but I'm guessing this isn't exactly a social visit?" Hightower guessed.

"Not entirely," Lisbon admitted. "I assume you've heard?" she asked.

"About Jane?" Hightower double-checked. "Yes, I heard. He left?"

"He did," Lisbon confirmed.

"I'm sorry, Teresa," Hightower said.

She shook her head. "No, I was expecting it."

"Still, you two worked together what, a decade? It can't be easy," Hightower pointed out.

"No," Lisbon admitted. "But I doubt it's easy for Jane either."

"Maybe this is one time to let yourself be a little selfish," Hightower suggested tentatively.

Lisbon looked up, eyes narrowed. "If you're asking me if I miss him, of course I do," she said her tone even. "But I'm not going to condemn him for deciding he needed time to figure out his life."

"Okay," Hightower said, holding up her hands in an obvious attempt to pacify the woman opposite her. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Lisbon muttered.

"So what can I do for you today, Teresa?" Hightower asked, trying to change the subject.

Lisbon sighed. "Actually it is about Jane. If you happen to see him..."

"I haven't," Hightower interjected.

Lisbon shook her head slightly. "I didn't think... That's not the point. _If _you do, and I'm not saying you will, but he's apparently on a driving tour of small-town California..."

"You've spoken to him?" Hightower asked, obviously surprised.

"Not exactly," Lisbon murmured. "Anyway, if he does happen to drop by, as he's sorting things out, could you give him this?" she asked, holding up a third copy of her letter.

"A letter?" Hightower asked, eyebrows raised.

Lisbon shrugged. "It's a long story."

Hightower narrowed her eyes slightly. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. "Of course it is. How could it be anything else with you two?" She took the letter from her former employee. "I'll absolutely give this to Patrick, if I see him, though I don't know that it's likely."

Lisbon didn't deny it. "I just thought there was a chance."

Hightower smiled. "I understand," she said softly.

"So if you don't mind?" Lisbon asked. "I don't want to impose. I know it's a weird kind of a favour..."

"Of course I don't mind," Hightower said with a wave of her hand. "Even if it's not a typical request, it's hardly a difficult one. Anyway, I owe you."

Lisbon tried to object. "You don't owe me..."

"Yes I do, Teresa. And we both know it," Hightower said firmly. "I owe you my life, and probably my children's lives."

"I'm sorry you couldn't come back to the CBI," Lisbon said sincerely. It'd taken her a while to get used to Hightower's methods, but she'd respected the woman.

Hightower shrugged, "Even if I did manage to escape jail time and a criminal record, it wouldn't have looked good. I was lucky to get out of it all with just a minor slap on the wrist and a slight career change. I made some mistakes in how I handled it too."

"But you're doing okay?" Lisbon checked.

Madeleine smiled. "Yes, Lisbon. I know a small-town sheriff seems like a step down, but at least I get to spend more time with my kids."

"Okay," Lisbon said. "I should probably let you get back to things, seeing as you're the sheriff."

Her former boss smiled. "Look on the bright side, if you happen to come to town at least you'll know the locals will be cooperative."

Lisbon chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."

Madeleine seemed to consider something (Lisbon wasn't sure what). Finally making up her mind, she held up the letter. "He's writing to you?" she asked softly.

Lisbon looked over sharply. "I didn't say..."

Madeleine smiled. "You didn't have to," she told her.

Lisbon closed her eyes briefly.

"I'm glad," Madeleine said softly.

Lisbon shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, probably good for him not to completely isolate himself from everyone."

Madeleine's smile widened as she ushered Lisbon onto her porch. "True," she agreed. "But, that wasn't what I meant Teresa. I'm glad for both of your sakes."

Lisbon glanced over in confusion.

Madeleine Hightower just continued to smile at her. "Have a good day, Teresa. I'll talk to you soon."

"Thank you ma'am," Lisbon murmured, turning back to her car.

She never had been able to read that woman's smiles. Heaven only knew what Hightower was thinking now. Oh well. Lisbon was determined not to worry about it too much. At least she'd increased the chance of Jane getting her letter. That was all that mattered.

With one final wave to one of her former bosses, Lisbon got in her car to drive towards the shore in order to meet with another one.

xxx

"Lisbon!" Minelli said as he met her at the café, drawing her into a hug. "I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise. Haven't heard from you in a while."

She smiled awkwardly as she pulled back from the embrace. "Well, you know how it is, with the job... It gets busy."

"Yes, shooting notorious serial killers does fill up your schedule, I'd imagine," Minelli said dryly, gesturing for her to sit down at a nearby table.

Lisbon nearly laughed, taking the offered chair and waiting for him to sit across from her. "I figured you heard."

"Lisbon," Minelli informed her. "_Everybody _heard. They plastered the story of Red John's death all over the local and national news. Your name was released. Jane's name was released. One of California's worst serial killers taken down by one of our own? You bet the media covered it. How you doing?"

She shrugged. "I'm alright. I'm not all torn up about shooting Red John to save Jane's life if that's what you're asking me."

"And how's Jane?" Minelli asked neutrally.

Lisbon looked up, surprised. "You mean you haven't heard?"

Minelli sighed. "He's really gone then?"

Lisbon nodded. "He is, but I think it's what he needs. I think it'll be good for him."

"Hmm," Minelli said noncommittally.

"I assume you haven't heard from him then?" Lisbon asked.

Minelli looked surprised at the question. "Now Lisbon, why on earth would _I_ have heard from him?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "I know you have in the past, when Jane had his reasons for not using official channels to get information."

Minelli harrumphed. "You knew about that, huh?"

"Well, I was pretty sure," she admitted. "And it took me a while to figure it out. But it was the only thing that made sense. Who else would have your connections that Jane could trust?"

Minelli nodded. "Fine. I may have passed on some information from time to time. But I only did it because I thought it was for the best. I thought he was onto something."

"He was," Lisbon agreed. "Sometimes. He just didn't always go about things in the best way."

"That's an understatement," Minelli muttered. "Anyway, no, I haven't seen Jane in over a year."

Lisbon sighed. "I thought as much."

Minelli leaned forward across the table. "You want to get in touch?" he asked.

"Sort of," Lisbon admitted. "More send a message. If you see him."

"Sure, I can pass along a message Teresa. That's not a problem. What do you want me to say?" her former boss asked.

Lisbon smiled self-consciously, pulling another copy of the letter out of her purse. "Actually, I want you to give him this," she said.

Minelli took the letter, watching her carefully. Lisbon willed herself not to squirm. Apparently he decided not to question her about it though, just slipped it in his jacket pocket. "If I see him," he promised her.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"Now!" Minelli said cheerfully. "Enough about Jane, do you have time for a very late lunch?" Minelli asked her.

Lisbon made a show of checking her watch. "I think I could squeeze you in," she said with a grin. "What's all this I hear about a possible second marriage?"

Minelli smirked and signalled for a waiter.

xxx

Lisbon parked her car and nervously stepped out of it. This was probably going to be her last planned stop of the day and the one she was the least sure about. She straightened her shoulders and walked as confidently as possible up towards the trailer, hoping they'd at least open the door when she knocked. It turned out she didn't have to knock. The door opened just before she got to it, revealing Pete on the other side, one of Jane's few friends from his carnie days that Lisbon actually knew.

"What're you doing here, Pepper?" he asked neutrally. "Can't be because Patrick sent you. We heard he's not working with you folks anymore."

"He's not here either, if that's what you're after," Sam said, appearing behind him. "And we don't know where he is."

"I'm not here to ask you where he is," Lisbon assured them calmly. "I know he needs some time alone."

"Then you'll forgive me for asking, what do you want?" Pete asked, not unkindly, but not exactly friendly either.

Lisbon took a breath. "I came to ask you to give him this, if you see him," she added, handing them a copy of her letter. "That's all."

Pete took the letter from her. Sam eyed it sceptically. "A _letter?_ You drove all this way to give us a _letter?_ Must be damn important."

"It's important enough," Lisbon said her tone even, though her heart rate sped up slightly.

Pete eyed her. "You know, you're taking an awful chance, _Agent_, giving a sealed letter to the likes of us. We could get that glue unstuck with steam from the kettle in no time flat."

Lisbon sent the two of them a tentative smile. "I'm well aware of that. There's nothing in that letter that you can't read."

Sam was still eyeing her distrustfully. "Then what _is_ in this letter of yours?"

Lisbon met the other woman's eyes calmly. "I ask him to start checking general delivery."

"General delivery?" Sam asked. "Like at the post office? Where you send people letters if they don't have a post office box? They even have that anymore?"

"Apparently," Lisbon said with a shrug.

"And you want to write to Patrick," Pete said slowly.

"Yes," Lisbon nodded. "That's it. He can check general delivery or not, it's up to him. But I need a way of telling him to do it, of giving him the choice."

Sam examined her for a few seconds more before nodding slowly. "Okay, Pepper. We'll give Jane your letter if we see him."

"Thank you," Lisbon said softly. "I appreciate it. I've probably taken up enough of your time now, so I should go."

As she turned Sam called after her, "Hey! If you have another one of those letters in your purse to give to Danny, just in case Patrick stops by to catch up with family, you better leave that with us too, Agent. I don't care who you are, if Danny don't want to be found, you won't find him."

Lisbon turned back sheepishly and held out the second envelope. "Wasn't sure how I was gonna pass that along anyway," she admitted.

To her surprise, Sam quirked a brow at her. "You really let Danny go when some other cops wanted to talk to him about some sort of fraud charge?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lisbon said quickly, but with a smirk of her own. "Say hi to Daisy for me," she told Pete.

"Will do, ma'am," he promised.

With that she really did turn to go.

"You're some kind of a cop, Pepper," Sam called after her.

Lisbon didn't answer, just gave an awkward wave and a smile as she got into her car. There was no point in challenging either of them on their views on herself and her colleagues. They had their own opinions of law enforcement. She could understand why, and she knew she'd never change them.

All she could hope for was that if they saw Jane, they trusted her enough, maybe even liked her enough to give him her letter.

She really hoped he ended up getting at least _one_ of the six copies. She really wanted to at least have a chance to write back sometimes. One-way letters just weren't enough.

Well, she'd done what she could. Now all that was left was to wait, wait and decide when she should start sending out her replies, and to where.

She figured she'd better wait a while. A week at the very least.

xxx

TBC

See look! I had a plot in mind this whole time! There is more... (some of which is getting made up as I go, but whatever...)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So, I mentioned to some people that this chapter would be going up by Friday. Clearly Tuesday counts as "by Friday." Ahem. (I needed a mental distraction, this was it.) Also, someone threatened to withhold my ice cream, which I thought was quite frankly, too far. I was all set to defy them. Then I finished the chapter instead. Not sure the next one will be so speedy, but ah well. This one's up.

Chapter 9

xxx

After her day of delivering letters to anyone she knew who might conceivably see Jane, Lisbon told herself that she'd done everything she could short of going and searching for her consultant herself (something she was fairly certain he wouldn't appreciate). She then told herself there was no reason to be nervous, particularly not right away. After all, the chances were absolutely miniscule that Jane dropped in on Hightower, for example, twenty-four hours after Lisbon had herself. Lastly, she told herself to relax.

Unsurprisingly, she was unable to take her own advice.

It was just that she didn't like limbo, didn't like inaction. She'd rather be doing something rather than just waiting around. It was part of the reason she at least wanted the option of answering Jane's letters. It would be something concrete that she could _do._ Although, she didn't want to just send letters out willy-nillly in the hopes that Jane decided to wander into a post office and ask if he had anything at general delivery. She did want there to be a small chance that he might actually _get_ one, which was why she figured she'd better wait at least a week to start sending them out. There was a chance he'd have heard about her plan by then. (Again, a small chance, but still a chance.) Apart from giving Jane a week to possibly visit someone and get her message, Lisbon'd likely receive another letter from him in the intervening time, which would give her a more precise indication of his location.

Until then, she needed a distraction.

xxx

Lisbon's wished-for distraction came in the form of a new case. Not the re-opening of a cold case that Jane had hoped for, but a brand new double-homicide just outside of Malibu. Thanks to the location, the entire team couldn't help thinking of their missing consultant. Even if Jane's name was almost never mentioned aloud, his absence was felt, more so than in the team's earlier cases.

Maybe it was because the shock was starting to wear off.

Lisbon made sure to keep everyone busy, and did her best to keep up morale and maintain focus on their victims and not their geographic location. Not an easy task, given Van Pelt's propensity to gaze around wistfully every so often.

In the end, Lisbon's efforts paid off though, and after two days, Rigsby uncovered a key lead, indicating that both victims had known each other years earlier and upon crossing paths over a decade later, had started up an affair.

Lisbon figured the team's success was a good sign. Definitely a morale-booster, even if they did miss Jane.

Since she could see the case obviously winding down, and after sending Rigsby and Van Pelt to pick up one of the victim's husband, Lisbon allowed herself an extra-long lunch break to sneak over to Jane's old house. She was unsurprised to see it undisturbed (to be honest, she'd have been absolutely shocked if there'd been any signs that Jane had been there). She didn't waste any time poking around though; she simply slipped a final copy of her letter to Jane outlining her plan to send him letters via general delivery under the welcome mat. Leaving him a copy at the Malibu house had occurred to her the second she first opened the current case file and read where the crime scene had been located.

After all, even if Jane had yet to visit his old home, Lisbon had no doubt that he would eventually. Hopefully, when he did come he would find her letter, if he didn't already have a copy, of course.

Satisfied with the success of her little mission, Lisbon got back in her car and quietly drove away so as not to disturb the house further.

xxx

It was very late the following evening, that Lisbon was pulling into her own parking space at her condo, tired but satisfied with the trip. A guilty (along with bitter and betrayed) spouse was in custody, his confession on file. The team seemed to be adjusting a little more to working consultant-free with each passing case, and she'd be sleeping in her own bed that evening and not a lumpy motel mattress. All good things as far as Lisbon was concerned.

The letter she found in her mailbox was just the cherry on top.

x

_Santa Rosa, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_It will come as no surprise to you to learn that I am still on the road._

_I'm beginning to look forward to each new town (even if I have visited some before under other circumstances). It's interesting to see the differences in each little place, underneath the similarities that cities of a given size in a given geographical area tend to share. Some are friendlier, some are better laid out, some have really obvious and really specific landmarks._

_This one has a museum dedicated to the guy who created "Peanuts". I've seen a lot of pictures of Snoopy today, let me tell you._

_But for the most part, people are still people. Go into any small town diner on any given morning and you'll find the regulars, hunched over the tables sipping their coffee dealing with the waitress silently if she's not a morning person, or chatting with her if she's friendly. You'll see a harried mother or two, with a toddler determined to make as much noise as possible while simultaneously getting more food on their face and hands than in their mouth. You'll see a couple, snatching a few moments together before they have to head off to their respective workplaces in the morning. And you'll see the strangers, the out-of-towners, like yours truly, who this morning was trying to choke down particularly rubbery eggs. If you ever go to the Royal Diner downtown, I don't recommend getting your eggs scrambled. The fried looked like they were more reliable; unfortunately I didn't realize that until it was too late._

_At least the tea was passable._

_I think I'll try the restaurant on the other side of the street tomorrow. Or maybe I'll just grab a bagel at a coffee shop._

_In spite of their eggs, I think I'll stick around this place another day. I feel like there's still more to see here._

_I hope your week has been everything you hoped it would be, Teresa. Let's dream big here._

_Or, at the very least, I hope your eggs were edible._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon bit her lip.

She'd meant to wait a week to start sending out letters, but wouldn't it make more sense to send one now? After all, it would take a few days to get to its intended destination, and if she waited any longer, Jane would have probably moved on, and she'd just have to wait for his next letter.

Sure, he hadn't mentioned her letters in his, but he'd probably sent it on or around the day she'd dropped them off… No way he had one yet.

Besides, he wasn't all _that_ far from Hightower. Sure, her office wasn't in the exact direction he seemed to be heading in, _but…_

But Jane had no real itinerary, so you never knew where he might end up.

And if the county fair schedule was anything to go by, it wasn't going to be too far out of Jane's way either, so if he was curious, or wanted to connect with old friends…

Lisbon sighed, she knew she was being ridiculously optimistic, but she didn't care.

Mind firmly made up, she walked over her coffee table and took out a sheet of notepaper from the top drawer. She _was_ going to write him a letter.

If he didn't get it, he didn't get it. All she'd have wasted was a little of her own time and the cost of a stamp.

She figured she could live with that.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm trying this out, seeing how it goes. I know that the chances that you get this letter are slim, but I'm going to try anyway. Because I'm used to writing to you too. If you don't get this letter, you don't get it. I'm still determined to try._

_I was away on a case this morning. I won't tell you the details, since I know you want to take a break from all of that. Quite frankly, I'm perfectly fine with declaring these letters a murder-free zone. _

_However, the fact that I was away on a case this morning means that I too had breakfast at a diner. I didn't order eggs though. I got the fruit salad and the yoghurt. I'm sure that's not a surprise to you. I'm not always a big eater in the mornings, and I don't like all the grease. Deal with it. Rigsby and Cho both got the scrambled eggs though. They seemed to enjoy them. Van Pelt got pancakes, in case you're interested._

_I actually just got home about fifteen minutes ago. It's pretty late. Finding your letter was a nice surprise. I hope that you're doing alright. It sounds like you are. I'm glad. And I'm glad that you're still writing to me. I hope it's okay that I'm writing back (or at least trying to). If it's not, I don't have to. Or... well, you don't have to go pick the letters up. I may write them anyway. Like I said, I'm used to it._

_Things are definitely quieter at work now that you're cruising around California. I guess that means we're both getting a little peace and quiet!_

_Seriously Jane, I hope you're doing as well as your letters imply. If you're not, you could tell me. You know I'm here._

_Optimistically hoping you get this,_

_-Lisbon_

x

Lisbon sealed her letter, and then tapped it on the table, wondering where to address it.

She grabbed her laptop and pulled up a map of California. Jane still seemed to be travelling north, albeit slightly more quickly than he had been. Assuming he continued moving in the same general direction, Windsor was probably the best bet for getting a letter to him. Although, knowing Jane he'd probably abruptly stop following his pattern, and veer off in some unexpected direction.

Still, it was the best she had to go on, so Lisbon figured may as well go with it. No point in turning back now. If Jane continued on as he was now, her best bet for catching him was probably either Healdsburg or Cloverdale. It might be better to address the letter to general delivery in Cloverdale. It was a bit farther along, and it might make more sense to choose the further town, just in case Jane drove farther than planned. If he didn't, he might pass through Cloverdale afterwards. It really all depended if he continued on with his apparent pattern of stopping at almost every city or town he passed.

Still, Cloverdale was her best guess. So that was what she settled on.

Mind made up, Lisbon addressed her letter and left it by the door to mail in the morning.

It wasn't a great plan, but it was better than nothing.

xxx

Lisbon continued to receive letters from Jane every two to three days. They were all relatively cheerful, much like his earlier ones. He certainly didn't appear to be in a big hurry to get anywhere fast. He'd hung around Santa Rosa for the better part of a week, in spite of its substandard scrambled eggs (although Jane was eventually able to confirm his theory that, not only were they much better fried at the first restaurant he'd been to, but the restaurant across the street was just better all around). Lisbon supposed his speed of travel made sense. If you weren't going anywhere in particularly, there was certainly no reason to rush.

Besides, the delays would help her keep track of his movements, and therefore correspond with him. If that ever became a possibility.

She tried not to be too impatient, but it was difficult.

Then, just over a week after she'd sent out her first letter, she got another reply from Jane in the mail.

x

_Cloverdale, California,_

_Dear Teresa,_

_A funny thing happened to me today. I was driving along, and I happened to see signs for the county fair. Then I heard a little voice in my head telling me that it was important to connect with people, to maintain old friendships, and isolating yourself from absolutely everyone wasn't healthy (it shouldn't surprise you to learn that this voice sounded suspiciously like yours, Teresa). So I thought, what the heck? What's the harm? I'm passing through. I know people here. I should probably at least drop in and say hello. Worst case scenario, it results in a second slap to the face._

_So, I pulled up to Pete and Sam's trailer, swaggered up to the door with a grin and knocked. Figured I'd give them a bit of a surprise, you see._

_Sam opened the door and managed to look absolutely shocked to see me while simultaneously looking like it was exactly what she expected. I originally didn't read too much into it. That's just Sam, you see, Teresa. Then Pete walked over, and I was greeted with, "Huh. So you did show up."_

_Now that puzzled me a little, I'll admit. Particularly when Sam looked at him and said, "Don't it just beat all? Makes you wonder, don't it?"_

"_Mmhm." Pete replied, grinning at me superiorly._

_That was when I started to get a little irritated. Usually I'm the one who likes to grin at people in a superior manner, as you well know. But I'm not wild about being on the receiving end of that kind of treatment. So I did what any sensible person would do in my situation. I demanded to know what the hell they were talking about._

_Pete and Sam shared a look that could only be described as an amused smirk. They invited me in; then Sam wandered into the other room and fished something out from beside the refrigerator. "We have a message for you," she told me with false gravity, handing me an envelope._

_Given the source of the letter, I was expecting news from Danny. Imagine my surprise when I saw whose handwriting was actually on the front of the envelope I held in my hand. Even Pete picked up on my surprise, to his overwhelming satisfaction. That made the whole situation still more irritating._

"_Guess we gotta hand it to little Pepper," Pete said, still grinning foolishly. "She sure has your number, Patty."_

_Now, at this point I would like to interject Teresa, just what on earth did you do that you managed to win over poor Pete so completely? Poor helpless Pete. He never stood a chance against you, did he? You must tell me your secret. I'd have thought handcuffing to his own truck would be a permanent black mark on your name, but apparently not. You certainly charmed him. It later became obvious that even Sam was willing to tolerate you, at least as my friend, which is, quite frankly, nothing short of a miracle._

_Sam agreed with Pete that you were something, only pausing to add some less than complimentary remarks about yours truly, particularly my level of intelligence. But that's nothing new. Then we all sat down to our visit. It wasn't long. I was really only dropping by, after all. And the three of us don't have all that much in common anymore. I drank a cup of tea, passed my regards on to Danny, and then I headed on my way. I planned to get to Cloverdale by the evening, find my usual motel. Course, I only got a few kilometres away from Pete and Sam's before curiosity got the better of me and I had to pull over on the side of the road._

_After all, what on earth would be worth your driving all over the state just to tell yours truly? _

_Oh, Teresa…_

_I'm not going to lie to you, your suggestion wasn't at all what I was expecting your letter to say. Not in the slightest. But, you foolish woman. You foolish, foolish woman. Of course I'd like to receive your letters. Of course I'll check general delivery at any town I happen to pass through. It'll be a bit hit and miss of course, but I'm certainly willing to give it a shot, if you're willing to take the time to write letters you have no guarantee will ever get to me. I suppose, in hindsight, that this whole arrangement was a little selfish of me (not that that type of behaviour from me should surprise you). After all, I can write to you, but you couldn't respond. It's not particularly fair, is it? _

_I just couldn't think of a way around that. I need to be alone. And I need the freedom to come and go as I please. Not that you ever tried to stop me, but… I just, I'm not in place where I can arrange times to phone you, so that we can have awkward conversations where neither of us really know what to say, and we're both a bit sad, and you eventually ask questions I don't have the answers to. That doesn't mean I didn't want to hear from you though. I just… I couldn't see a solution. Luckily, you had your clever hat on. _

_Anyway, I resolved to write you a reply the second I got into Cloverdale, telling you to go ahead and send me letters via general delivery. I assumed you wouldn't have started sending out notes until you at least got confirmation that I was checking. That would be the sensible course of action after all._

_And then I thought, what am I saying? You're Lisbon. In hindsight, I can't believe the notion that you might sit around doing nothing even crossed my mind. Whether you picked the right city struck me as being the more immediate problem. I barely spent a night in Healdsburg. But as you no doubt suspect, I had underestimated you. I found a letter waiting for me. It was maybe a week old, but it was still waiting._

_I've never been more pleased by the tangible results of your stubbornness before, dear. I'm not in any kind of mindset to come to work day to day, but I have missed hearing from you. You've come up with an ingenious solution to the dilemma, so go ahead and look pleased with yourself. It's not as irritating when you do it as when Pete does._

_I'm glad your cases are going well, even without me. (Although, almost three days to solve a measly little double homicide, Lisbon? You'd better pick up the pace!) I'm glad things are going smoothly in your life. I'm still managing to keep out of trouble, as well as sane, which I think we can both agree is a win._

_Excited to try some new eggs tomorrow morning. I have a good feeling about Cloverdale now._

_Your unworthy, yet faithful, correspondent,_

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon was well aware that she was indeed grinning like a fool. She was sitting on her couch, in her living room, grinning like a fool. But she didn't care. One, there was no one around to see her. Two, she had her pen pal back. And three, Jane wasn't completely opposed to hearing from her on his road trip, which Lisbon took to mean that he wasn't mad at _her_, but more just confused and lost in general.

In her excitement, she grabbed her laptop to try and figure out where Jane might go next, and then grabbed another sheet of note paper.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm so glad that you got my letter. So glad. I was worried it might take weeks, or even months. I'm attributing it entirely to my voice in your head, just so you know. Absolutely taking full credit for this, right here._

_It's nice that you dropped in on old friends too, even apart from the fact that it allows me to have some hope of my letters actually reaching you. If you keep it up, people might even stop accusing you of being antisocial! To answer your question, I didn't do anything to Pete! Of the two of us, you're the one who constantly manages to charm people into liking them for no good reason that I can see. (For your information, Annie thinks that it has something to do with your hair.) Although, I'm glad that he didn't hold a grudge, and that he and Sam did pass on my letter. I know we'll never be the best of friends. And that's fine. But I appreciate that they did me the favour._

_I'm also glad that my letters aren't imposing on the solitude you need. I don't want to push. I just want to write back. You understand that though, I guess. Thanks. I really hope you sort some things out out. You certainly make driving through parts of California sound appealing. Particularly since I was in budget meetings for most of the day today. I started praying for an urgent case, no luck._

_Oh well, the weekend's coming up, and Annie wants to come visit soon, to make up for her missed week in the summer. That should be fun. No date set for that yet, though. Oh well, we'll get it sorted eventually._

_I hope you enjoyed your eggs. I had oatmeal this morning._

_Good luck on you travels!_

_-Lisbon_

x

Two sentences into her letter, Lisbon was tempted to tear up the note and start again. Then she changed her mind. Maybe it was a good thing that Jane knew she was happy (and a little excited) to be writing to him again. The tone of his last letter had obviously been pleased, not to mention it'd been a fair bit longer than usual.

She remembered a past conversation about how with a letter you could be very deliberate about what you sent, but it took more effort to change a message once it was written down.

Well, this was written down, and she wasn't going to change it. Not today at least.

Before she could change her mind, Lisbon tucked her note in an envelope. Addressing it, she made a mental note to go and buy more stamps the next day. She was now going through them much more quickly than she used to. She decided to find some with interesting pictures on the front. After all, they might give Jane a laugh.

That was really one of her main goals with her notes after all (the other was obviously to keep in touch with Jane). Peaceful as his endless road trip might be, Lisbon figured Jane had to get lonely from time to time. Hell, sometimes _she_ got lonely, and she didn't spend large chunks of her days alone in a car. If nothing else, her letters would remind Jane that he at least had one friend. If he decided to make contact with a few others along the way, or even make some new ones, so much the better.

She knew that there hadn't been anything in her notes that was groundbreaking, but sometimes people just needed a little bit of a distraction. The letters could be that thing, for both of them. Jane was going through some pretty heavy stuff to put it mildly, and her job was tough, stressful. Everyone could use a healthy outlet like this. After all, what else were friends for?

Lisbon nodded to herself. It was an odd method of communication, to be sure. Jane's letters would come to her in a specific order while the ones he received from her would almost certainly not, and would definitely contain gaps. Lisbon figured she might be able to get pretty good at predicting where Jane was headed with time, but she was under no illusions that she'd ever be 100%.

Still, she found she kind of liked it as a system. It was a bit unorthodox, a bit whimsical, just like Jane himself. It didn't put too much pressure on either of them, and they both got the benefits of keeping in touch.

Besides, Lisbon laughed to herself. They were helping out the postal workers. Weren't they always complaining about how the volume of letter mail was constantly declining? She and Jane were just doing their part.

Lisbon folded up her letter to put it with the others. Then, she wandered into her kitchen, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to order Chinese or Thai for dinner.

Today had been a good day.

xxx

Having received a letter from Jane the evening before, Lisbon wasn't expecting to hear from him for a couple of days at minimum. So it was with some surprise that she found a postcard in her mailbox the next morning.

It had a photo of Novato, California on the front. On the back, all that Jane's message was short.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_Turns out this place has quite the used bookstore. On a whim I picked up a copy of Sherlock Holmes. Thought you'd like that._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon grinned. Quickly she ripped a piece of paper off of a pad from her briefcase, taking a few seconds to scrawl down a reply.

X

_Dear Jane,_

_Thrilled to hear about your chosen reading material!_

_For my next reading project, I'm thinking of starting either, "The Sheik's Prisoner" or "The Playboy Millionaire's Plaything." Not particularly inspiring titles, I know, but when you're reading Harlequins teh selection can be rather limited._

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. I'm kidding of course. Actually, I'm reading a book on motivating your employees and building trust, but I thought you'd be less interested in that sort of thing._

x

Lisbon chuckled. She'd mail her note from work. If it went out in the mail today, he'd probably get both letters at the same. Or not get either of them, if he changed direction, but she was choosing to be optimistic this morning.

Why not?

The sun was shining. It really was a beautiful day.

xxx

TBC

Alright, so that's the end of the chapter. Here's the thing though, I'm writing this fic with Lisbon as my only narrator, which mostly I'm finding works really well. But I'm not used to writing from a limited point of view. I tend to mix Jane and Lisbon's POVs, particularly in multichapters. Not this time. As I said, not a problem, but...

There is one scene that I really wanted to write, but it could only ever be from Jane's point of view. And it's not something I think he'd ever tell her the details of. Nor would anyone else.

Thus, I bring you, my first ever, Deleted Scene (because ridiculously, apparently this fic has extras now). You don't have to read it; it won't affect the plot of the fic. I just think it's fun.

It's set right after Sam hands Jane Lisbon's letter.

xx

"I assume you know what that is," Sam said neutrally.

Jane blinked, staring at the letter in his hands. "I recognize the handwriting," he said, his voice low.

Sam was watching him closely. "Thought you might."

Something in her tone made Jane look up quickly, guiltily. "It's not what it looks like," he insisted.

"Mmhm," she said, eyebrow raised.

Jane decided to just ignore her. He'd learned long ago that arguing with Sam rarely ended well for him. Instead, he turned back to his letter. Something caught his eye. "The seal of this letter doesn't look like it was steamed open and re-glued," he observed, more than a little surprised by that fact.

"That's because it wasn't," Sam told him, managing to convey with her tone that she thought his observation a little idiotic.

Jane hastened to defend his position. "You had it in your possession for what I assume was a minimum of a week or two and you didn't steam it open?" He asked sceptically.

"Didn't need to, Patty," Pete informed him.

That confused Jane. "What?"

Sam grinned. "Your state trooper told us what was inside herself."

Jane scowled at her tone, "She's not _my_ state trooper."

"Well, she's certainly not _mine_," Sam couldn't resist pointing out.

Jane considered that. "I guess not," he said eventually. Then he held up the letter. "So, you know what this says."

The woman across from him nodded, her tone superior. "Mmhm."

"Oh," he said inadequately. He really didn't know what to say to that.

"Why? Do you not want the letter?" she asked curiously.

Jane's grip tightened automatically (possessively) on the envelope in his hand. "Of course I want the letter! Why wouldn't I want…"

"That's what I thought," Sam said with a nod, interrupting Jane's babbling.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Jane demanded.

Sam met his eyes, and gave it to him straight. Just like she always had (unless she was trying to con him of course). "Just that you're a damn fool, Patrick Jane."

"Possibly," Jane agreed easily. "But I don't know what brought that observation on _today._.."

"Yeah, you do. After all, it's clear to anyone with eyes in their head..." Sam countered.

"Something you seem to have lost recently," Pete interjected cheerfully.

Sam continued, ignoring the interruption and picking up where she'd left off. "... that you want to read that letter in your hand more than you want to talk to the likes of us."

Suddenly Pete stood. Jane stood with him out of habit, and let himself be led to the door. "You keep in touch now, Patrick!" Pete said, clapping him on the arm.

"Yeah, thanks for this guys," he murmured awkwardly, unsure of what to say, of how to explain. There was no explaining really. They wouldn't understand. How could they? "And thanks for the tea."

"Drop by if your travels bring you our way again, you hear?" Sam ordered.

"I will," Jane promised them as he headed towards his faithful car, trying to sort out what on earth had just happened.

x

There you have it! Hope you enjoyed it. (And the rest of the chapter, obviously)


	10. Chapter 10

Guys, when I started this fic, I was thinking it'd be maybe 6-8 chapters. Estimation fail. Now I`m thinking 15 is probably more accurate. I also have a feeling this is going to turn into the longest fic I`ve ever written. Probably. I really shouldn't make any sort of predictions about my own fic until they`re done. Really, really shouldn't.

xxx

_Ukiah, California,_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_You made the right decision, I see, in assuming I'd stay on the 101 and not turn off towards Fort Bragg. Well reasoned. Unless you wrote me more than one letter in the past week and there's one sitting in the Fort Bragg post office all by its lonesome._

_I hope not. It's kind of a depressing thought._

_Also, really? Another book about leadership? You're reading another book about leadership? I'm re-reading Sherlock Holmes, and that's why you decide to pick off your bedside table before you fall asleep? And regardless of what you say, I am assuming that it's putting you to sleep. How could it not? Anyway, even if it isn't, why on earth are you reading yet another one of those useless things? I understand that you take your job and your position as the supervising Agent seriously, but honestly, after reading a half a dozen so-called books on leadership (and we both know you have – don't even try to deny it), what could you possibly learn in this newest one?_

_Particularly since, to the best of my recollection, your team has never called your leadership into question?_

_This is your private life, Lisbon. You're at home. You're done work for the day. Just let yourself relax a little. Pick up a novel from time to time. You told me once that you like to read mystery novels. When was the last time you actually read one? I won't suggest you re-read Sherlock Holmes. We don't need to be having some sort of odd two-person, state-wide book club, particularly since discussion would take months at minimum. But find something from the fiction section. Have you read the Lord Peter Wimsey books by Dorothy Sayers? If you haven't, I think you'd like them; if you have read them already, reread them._

_You work too hard; the amount of time you spend in the office is ridiculous. When you do actually get home, just take a break. A short one. Please. For me._

_Your literary advisor,_

_-Jane_

xxx

Lisbon grinned from her place curled up on her couch where she usually read her letters from Jane. Jane would never understand her compulsion to read books about effective leadership techniques. But Jane had never liked taking direction from anyone. Not to mention, his consultancy position at the CBI had hardly been something he was particularly passionate about. It'd been a means to an end. Oh, he might have enjoyed parts of it, in his way. He'd definitely enjoyed the portion of the job that involved outsmarting the criminals, but Jane hadn't always had the most respect for the rest of it.

Besides, Lisbon suspected that there was very little that Jane wasn't just naturally good at. There were very few things that he'd genuinely put a lot of effort into mastering. Oh, he might have worked at improving his memory and other mental tricks like that, maybe put in a bit of work to be good at poker or chess. But over the years she'd worked with him, t Lisbon had seen Jane try his hand at anything from sketching to golf, and, even if he'd never done them before, he'd always proved at the very least competent. She was sure there were things Jane _wasn't_ good at (construction and baseball came to mind), but mostly things seemed to just come naturally to him. She wondered what the last thing he'd had to actually work at _was_. Whatever it was, she was sure he hadn't learned about it from reading a book.

Jane was more one for diving into things.

So she was she, come to think of it. For some things at least. But that didn't mean that reading a little bit of background information beforehand was wrong.

Still, Lisbon grinned wryly, maybe he did have a point about the leadership guides. At least about varying her reading material a little. It _had_ been a while since she'd picked up a novel.

She grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, sighing as she started to compose her reply. Sometimes that man was absolutely _insufferable_.

x

_Dear Jane_

_I'll have you know that my book on leadership was an absolutely fascinating read. I definitely recommend it. I could give you the title, in case you're interested. I just finished it last night, and it didn't put me to sleep once._

_Although, you're right. There's nothing wrong with a little variety. I have read Lord Peter Wimsey, but not since high school. I used to love those books. Maybe you're right; maybe it is time for a reread._

_What about you though? When was the last time you read something written in the last thirty years? I get that you're trying to get through some of the classics, but you could stand to go crazy too, Jane. Pick up The Golden Compass, or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, or the Hunger Games, or Harry Potter, or _something_. Find some kind of light reading. (So maybe the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo doesn't qualify.)_

_Or if that's too big a jump for you, get the DVD's of BBC's Sherlock. At least you'll be familiar with the characters, and it'll ease you into the modern world. Just a thought._

_As for predicting that you'd end up in Ukiah and not Fort Bragg, maybe I just figured you were too lazy to switch roads. Did you ever think of that? _

_Huh?_

_It's the same reason that I'm going to send this letter to Laytonville_

_-L_

xxx

Lisbon smirked to herself. She certainly wasn't going to confirm or deny the presence of a letter at Fort Bragg. Let him try and work it out for himself. Or even drive over there if he was so curious.

As she was addressing her letter, her phone rang.

"Hello?" Lisbon asked.

"Hey Reese," she heard Tommy say on the other end of the line. "This a bad time?"

Settling back down onto her couch, Lisbon grinned. "Nah," she assured him. "I got home about a half an hour ago. Just relaxing. What's up?"

"I can't just be calling to see how my big sister's doing?" Tommy asked.

But Lisbon knew that tone. He wanted something from her, exactly what was the question. "_Are _you just calling to see how your big sister's doing?" she asked sceptically.

"Well, no," Tommy told her. "But tell me anyway."

Lisbon laughed. Obviously whatever Tommy was calling about, it wasn't serious or he'd have led with it, whatever it was. "I'm doing alright," she told him. "Everything's running pretty smoothly. Haven't had a case in a couple of days, still getting used to working without a consultant, but mostly I can't complain. The weather's been pretty great too. What about you?"

"Well, I grabbed a guy just outside San Francisco the other day, so that was good," Tommy told her. Lisbon could hear the pride in his voice; it made her about equal parts happy and sad. The stupid, dangerous job.

"That's great," she said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible.

"Good try, Reese," Tommy said dryly, obviously seeing right through her feeble attempt. "A for effort though."

"What do you want, Tom?" she grumbled.

He laughed. "So, Annie has a Friday off school in a couple weeks. I'm supposed to go to Malibu, for a thing for work, help out a guy I know. Trina was supposed to take our daughter for the weekend, specifically asked to take her for a girl's weekend actually. Bet you know how that story ends."

"Let me guess?" Lisbon said. "Some friend of hers just out of state is having some massive event, or impending crisis, or something else that Trina can't possibly miss."

"Got it in one," Tommy said dryly. "Anyway, I feel really bad that your week with Annie this summer didn't happen, and I know it's not the same, but what do you say about having Annie visit for a long weekend? She could come Thursday night, if that's okay. If it's not; if you're busy, I totally understand, obviously. But you'd really be helping me out, Sis."

"Absolutely!" Lisbon said excitedly. "Two weeks Friday? I can take the day off no problem."

"Yeah. I figured you probably had some insane amount of vacation time stored up," Tommy muttered.

But Lisbon was happy to pay him any mind. She was already mentally making plans for her weekend. Then something occurred to her. "Wait, you've run this by your daughter already, right? I'm not going to have an annoyed teenager on my hands?" she double-checked.

"Of course, I've run it by Annie," Tommy replied in a tone suggesting that he was insulted his big sister had even felt like she had to ask. "She's excited to visit her aunt."

"Then I'd love for her to visit," Lisbon said sincerely.

"Great! I think that's great," Tommy said obviously relieved. "Thanks so much Reese, really."

"Anytime, Tommy. You or Annie are always welcome. You should know that," Lisbon said softly.

"Yeah," her brother replied.

"And I still want my promised week-long visit next summer," Lisbon cautioned. "If Annie wants to, obviously."

"Sure," Tommy agreed easily. "Sorry it's kind of short notice. But think, without me there, you two can do all sorts of girl things."

Lisbon snorted. "Oh yeah, that's us."

Suddenly she heard Annie herself in the background. The teenager had obviously been listening in on the second half of the conversation (Lisbon could only hope she hadn't heard her father's remarks about Trina. No teenager needed to hear one of her parents insult the other, no matter what they'd done). "Yeah, Dad. I'll get right on that," Lisbon heard the teenager say sarcastically. "Maybe I'll give Aunt Teresa a makeover."

Lisbon snickered. "We can do each other's nails and talk about boys!" she called through the phone in a breathy, high-pitched voice.

"Maybe we'll like, even go shopping!" Annie squealed exaggeratedly from the other side.

"And have pillow fights!" Lisbon added enthusiastically.

"Okay, okay!" Tommy yelled. "Enough. It's bad enough having one of you go at me. Two at once is too much. You guys can do whatever you want."

"Thanks so much for your permission," Lisbon said dryly.

Tommy didn't reply. He was distracted talking to his daughter. "Hey Reese?" he said after a moment. "The kid wants a minute, if you've got time."

"Of _course_ I've got time," Lisbon said in exasperation.

A second later she heard Annie's voice. "Hi Aunt Teresa."

"Hey," Lisbon said, smiling. "I hear you're coming to visit in a few weeks."

"Yeah," Annie agreed. Lisbon heard a door close and assumed Annie had walked into another room. "Um, actually, that's what I wanted to... I need to talk to you," the teenager said.

"Sweetie, you can talk to me anytime," Lisbon assured her. "I've told you that. What's up?"

"Not right now," Annie said. "When I come visit. I don't want to talk over the phone."

"Should I be worried?" Lisbon asked.

"No. No, no," Annie said with a laugh. "It's nothing like that, just... I have something I want to ask you."

"Okay. I'll keep that in mind," Lisbon agreed, relaxing somewhat. "Anything else you want to do while you're here?"

"Can we really go shopping?" Annie asked. "I know I made fun of it before, but..."

Lisbon laughed. "Sure. We'll just stay away from anything sparkly, pink and ruffled."

"Good," the girl said dryly. "Anyway, I've got to go do my homework. Do you want to talk to Dad again?"

"Only if he wants to talk to me," Lisbon said. "Otherwise just tell him I said good night and I'll talk to him later."

"Just a sec," Annie told her, putting the phone down. "DAD!" Lisbon heard her yell. "DO YOU STILL WANT TO TALK TO AUNT REESE?"

"Does she want to talk to me," Tommy yelled back.

"ONLY IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO HER!" Annie replied. "OTHERWISE SHE SAYS GOODNIGHT, AND SHE'LL TALK TO YOU LATER!"

Lisbon chuckled to herself. "TELL HER I SAY GOODNIGHT BACK!" she heard her brother yell.

With that, Annie was back. "He says he doesn't need to talk to you, and he says goodnight back."

"I heard," Lisbon assured her.

"Oh."

"Good night, Annie," Lisbon said, a laugh in her voice.

"Night Aunt Reese," the girl replied. "I'll see you in a couple weeks."

"You bet," Lisbon agreed.

With that, Annie hung up the phone.

Lisbon smirked to herself, her eyes glancing between her phone and the (unfortunately ) sealed letter on the table. A second later she'd ripped the envelope back open.

Clearly there was something she needed to add.

x

_P.S. Guess who's coming to visit me in two weeks, Jane? Annie. She's apparently got a long weekend coming up, her Dad's got plans and her Mom's being, well, her Mom. So she's coming for a visit. We're going to go shopping. And apparently she wants to talk to me about something, but she won't tell me what. I hope it's not a serious problem. I don't think it is, but still. It's been a while since I've had to sort through teenage issues. I guess I'll just have to do my best._

_And you think I never take any vacation. Ha. I'm taking a long weekend in two weeks. So there._

x

Finding another envelope, Lisbon placed her now slightly longer letter inside of it and re-addressed it so she could drop it in a mailbox on her way to work, as usual.

Then she went back to planning her weekend with Annabeth. Her niece definitely liked Mexican food. She should take her to the place a couple of streets over. They had the best guacamole. Oh, she bet Annie would like the jewelry store just down the street from that place too.

Maybe she should start a list.

xxx

A few days later, Lisbon was again coming home late after a long case. This one finally solved as well, although it'd been touch and go for a while there. It was days like this that she missed Jane. Sure, he caused practically endless logistical issues, but he did tend to get results. He definitely sped things along.

Not that her team couldn't do this job without him, but he had made certain things easier.

Of course, when Lisbon considered the significantly smaller pile of paperwork that she'd had to hand in at the closing of her case, she had to acknowledge that he made certain things harder as well. It was always a trade off with Jane.

Still, all things considered, she'd rather have him around than not.

She wondered how he was doing.

She was hoping for a letter in her mailbox when she got home actually. She wasn't going to lie.

And happily, there was one.

x

_Willits, California,_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Did little old Willits not warrant a letter? I suppose not. It is a pretty small town. Although, I also suppose given the delays in the mail system, and my willy-nilly travelling ways, it's a wonder I've gotten any of your letters at all. Don't bother telling me I shouldn't complain. I know it well enough._

_I'll just check the post office in the next town, to see if you sent something there._

_I hope you've bought a novel for yourself. Something to help de-stress that brain of yours. I've moved onto the Hound of the Baskervilles. Catching up on my Conan Doyle is entertaining._

_Willits, you will be pleased to know, boasts a train museum. I think I'll also go and see the Redwoods while I'm here. It feels like something I should do. Who knows, maybe seeing the natural giants will help put things in perspective? I don't know if it will work, obviously._

_I hope so though._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon frowned. It sounded like Jane was getting caught up in his head. She hoped he didn't get stuck in a maze in there. She had a feeling the man's brain could be quite a scary place sometimes. Probably more often than not at the moment.

He obviously wasn't travelling very fast, which meant that he hadn't got her last letter. She wondered if she should sent this one to Laytonville as well, before deciding it was probably better to cover her bases and send it along to Redway. Anyway, knowing Jane, he'd probably perversely start travelling insanely quickly or something, and he'd miss both.

Biting her lip, Lisbon pulled a piece of paper from a drawer. This meant that he hadn't heard her news about Annie yet. Well, not as far as she knew. He might be in Laytonville, reading her last letter right now for all she knew. The mental image made her smile.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I didn't send a letter onto Willits, you're right. I hope you get the one I sent to Laytonville. And you're right; you have no right to complain. I'm doing my best here! (Maybe we'll get better. I always figure it's better to send the letters a bit far so that you get them eventually, rather than missing them completely.)_

_Did the Redwoods help put things in perspective? I hope so too. If not, you've always got your Conan Doyle to go back to. I was out of town for a couple of days earlier this week and I picked up a copy of "Whose Body" by Dorothy Sayers to read in the hotel I haven't gotten very far yet, not a lot of time for reading on a case. But you were right, it does make a decent distraction. I'd forgotten how much I used to love Lord Peter Wimsey. I always found him pretty charming, him and his butler, Bunter. The man really was the perfect assistant in every way._

_Since you didn't get my last letter (at least, as far as I know), you haven't heard my news. Annie's visiting in a week and a half for a long weekend. I'm pretty excited. Any suggestions about what a particularly independent teenage girl would want to do with her boring aunt on the weekend?_

_I'm thinking shopping and Mexican food. Maybe a movie._

_And hey, if the Redwoods didn't help clear your brain, maybe try a walk through a field, or something. Oh! What about the beach? You always seem to like the ocean, and you're not that far. Maybe it'll helps._

_I hope so,_

_-Lisbon_

x

With that, Lisbon tiredly addressed her letter before heading up to bed.

It'd really been an exhausting case. She'd almost started to tell Jane about it, but he didn't need to be bothered with her issues. He had enough of his own.

Besides, he'd requested that their correspondence be a murder-free zone. She could respect that. Most of the time she even appreciated it.

But sometimes...

Oh well, nothing she could do about it. She was too tired to change her letter anyway.

She really just wanted to go to sleep.

For about a day and a half.

xxx

Obviously sleeping for a day and a half wasn't a possibility. Lisbon did manage to drag herself out of bed and into work the next day without complaining too loudly, at least not out loud.

The day turned into a near-constant headache of meetings. Lisbon found herself reaching for her trusty bottle of Advil more than once.

Finally, at about six, she managed to drag herself out of her office and drive to her condo. She wondered if there would be anything stupid on television to distract her for a while before she just gave up and went to sleep.

Maybe she was getting sick. She seriously hoped not. Probably she was just tired. Anyway, even if she was sick, it didn't feel like anything serious. Nothing that would stop her from making it into work the next day at least.

Mind firmly made up on that front, Lisbon picked up her Thai take out. There was no way she was in any mood to cook anything for herself for dinner.

Whatever, she was supporting local small businesses this way.

Lisbon absently checked her mail out of habit when she got home.

To her surprise there was a letter inside. She smiled, her lingering headache briefly forgotten.

Actually, her headache was feeling much better about midway through her Pad Thai. That was when she realized that she may have forgotten to eat anything since she'd left early that morning. No wonder she hadn't felt great all afternoon. She dropped her head back against her couch. Jane would yell at her if he knew.

Not that she planned to tell him.

Speaking of Jane...

Lisbon's eyes strayed to the letter on her coffee table. She'd meant to open it after dinner, but surely during was okay too. After all, it's not like she was entertaining guests...

Grinning, she picked up her surprise letter.

x

_Laytonville, California,  
><em>

_Dear Lisbon,_

_You know, you never did tell me if you sent a letter to Fort Bragg. You implied that you didn't, but you didn't go right out and say it. Makes me wonder how many of your letters are just floating around the countryside. It's an interesting thought._

_I hope you did get your Lord Peter, Lisbon. Maybe you already have. I have no idea how many letters I'm behind. I hope you don't mind the repetition, if this is indeed repetitious. The nature of the beast I suppose. (I'm not even going to comment on your suggestion that I read your book on leadership. You're more than welcome to keep that tile to yourself, Teresa.) I have to say, I'm not wild about all of your reading suggestions for me. I have absolutely no desire to read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo right now. I've no doubt it's an excellent novel, but I know what it's about. And I think the subject matter's probably a really, really bad idea right now. I'm trying to move away from crazy, Lisbon, not invite it into my brain for tea and an extended chat. Harry Potter is a possibility, though, I suppose. It would give me something to talk about with a large chunk of the population. I know the basics at least._

_For the moment though, I decided to really modernize my approach and switch mediums to television. You're right, BBC's Sherlock is very well done. A little predictable of course, all crime shows are. But it's definitely less predictable than most. It keeps my brain occupied. An inspired suggestion, dear._

_And I saw from your post script that Annie's coming to visit. That's lovely, Teresa. I'm pleased for you. I know how disappointed you were when she couldn't come in the summer, much as you tried to hide it (poorly, I might add. You'll never be an actress). I'm sure the Lisbon women will take Sacramento by storm. And don't worry about whatever it is she wants to talk to you about. When the time comes, I've no doubt you'll more than rise to the occasion. You're good at giving advice. I don't have any particular suggestions for the weekend, other than treat it like a mini holiday. Spoil her, and yourself._

_Go for ice cream. What about the spa? You may scoff at my suggestions, Lisbon, but I know you're tempted. Tell me that you couldn't use a little relaxation? A little pampering? If you don't actually go, you know you won't do it. I know you won't do it. We all know you won't do it. You'll put off relaxation in favour of responsibility. Always an uninspired choice._

_I'm sure your weekend will be lovely. Say hi to Annie for me, and keep an eye on your pockets. I hear she's been taking my tips to heart._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon was smiling again when she finished the letter.

She was probably about twenty minutes from falling asleep, but she figured she had just enough energy left for a quick reply.

x

_Damn it Jane!_

_This is exactly why I didn't want you teaching Annie to pick pockets! That is not something that she needs to get good at! Not that I'm worried that she'll take my stuff, except for fun, obviously._

_It's a good thing I've gotten better at recognizing when my pocket's being picked. All that time spent with you, I guess. And don't bother trying to tell me that you picked my pockets all the time and I never realized. Lie if I ever heard one._

_This letter isn't going to be long. I'm about ready to fall asleep on it as it is. Most of the things I want to say to you I covered in an earlier letter anyway. So many letters..._

_I just wanted to yell at you for teaching my niece your tricks. And to yell at you for criticizing my book suggestions. See if I suggest anything to you again! Although, I'm glad that you're liking Sherlock. I knew that you would. I'm definitely enjoying my book about an eccentric British aristocrat solving crime._

_I'll write more another day. I'm off to bed._

_Stop teaching my niece ways of getting into trouble!_

_-Lisbon_

_P.S. I will think about your suggestion of the spa though. Thanks._

x

Lisbon stared at her map of California, trying to figure out if Jane was driving fast or slow again. Then she realized she was way too tired for this nonsense. She addressed the note to Fortuna and decided to hope for the best. Then she packed up her leftover Pad Thai, pleased that tomorrow's lunch was taken care of (and that would hopefully mean that today's headache wouldn't be repeated).

Right now, all she was up for was a quick bath and then sleep.

Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

x

TBC

So, I had to split this chapter. It was originally going to include Annie's visit, but this is the fic that only ever gets longer. So now Annie is coming to visit next chapter. Because this one is already getting long enough, and I do want to post something this weekend.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I know, this update was slow, but I had a busy week, and then the long weekend didn't help. Also, I had issues getting this chapter right, but I think I liked how it turned out, so that's good.

Chapter 11

xxx

_Fortuna, California_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Two letters waiting for me in Fortuna? I feel privileged, dear._

_I have several things to say to you all at once as a result. _

_You sound absolutely exhausted. You need to take better care of yourself. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Relax. Stop work from time to time. Read your book. I'm not so unrealistic as to think you'll take all of my suggestions, but even one of the above would probably help._

_Which brings me to, I'm so glad you picked up the Dorothy Sayers. Enjoy your reread, Teresa. You deserve it._

_I'm sure you and Annie will come up with many, many things to occupy yourselves with over your weekend. If I know you at all, you've already started planning it all out. Tell me truthfully, you have a list, don't you?_

_You are not Boring Aunt Teresa, and I'm certain Annie would back me up on this. You're definitely cool Aunt Teresa, who's sometimes a bit fond of the rules._

_The Redwoods did help for a while. Then they just make you feel insignificant. They've been on the planet so much longer than any one person. Maybe I will try a meadow next time, and see how that goes. It's not a bad suggestion, Teresa. Now do me a favour, and stop worrying so much. You've known for some time that my mental state isn't always ideal. I can at least assure that I don't think it's gotten any worse._

_I'm done with my list for the time being I think. Although, you are sure that you're getting enough sleep? I don't need to send you some sort of sleep schedule to prevent you from running yourself ragged? You'll make yourself ill, and then you won't enjoy your visit with Annie. Think of how disappointing that will be._

_Speaking of which, tell me about this visit with your niece. What are your plans? I'd like to hear them (particularly that list of yours). Your letters are particularly endearing when you're happy._

_-Jane_

_P.S. I may stay in Fortuna a week or so, just to take a break from all of the driving. So it's probably best to send your next reply here._

x

Lisbon bit her lip.

Oh, Jane was staying in Fortuna was he? And she should feel free to send her next letter to him there? Jane must want to hear about her visit with Annie, if he was specifically passing along his location like that. Well, it made sense; the man had always been fond of her niece. They were like two peas in a pod, in a way.

Lisbon could certainly deal with a break from staring at her map trying to figure out where he'd be in a few days. Although, she'd kind of assumed he would continue north until he got into Oregon before looping back down into California on 5. Of course, it depended how set he was on staying in California (yet another question she didn't actually know the answer to). If Jane was determined to stay in California, he might cut across the top of the state. If he wasn't, he might just keep driving north.

You never knew with Jane.

At least she had a little longer before she had to figure that out. He wasn't at the state border yet.

In the meantime, probably best to just answer his letter.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_It's absolutely ridiculous of you to tell me not to worry about your personal habits, and then talk about sending me a sleep schedule. When was the last time you got a full night's sleep? By that I mean more than four hours. I had a stressful day at work. It happens. It involved a headache that Tylenol didn't quite get rid of. And I'll have you know that I went straight to bed after I finished your letter. I woke up feeling right as rain the next morning, so you can take your sleep schedule and stuff it. Or better yet, keep it handy for your own use._

_I should mail you a relaxation tape. The sound of the seashore or something. That'd teach you, you big know-it-all. Lord Peter Wimsey can be a bit of a know-it-all too. He's not as bad as you are when it comes to know-it-all-ness though; it's a refreshing change. Or maybe he's just more charming about it. Of course, he's also fictional..._

_I may have started a list of things to do with Annie when she comes. Less than a week now. It's not an extensive list. Shopping, maybe a movie, the Mexican restaurant not far from my place, the one with the really good guacamole. I figured, she's already done most of the touristy things in the area, so we don't need to do those again, unless she wants to. I'm still considering the spa. Did she say whether she liked the one you sent her on last time? Anyway, she's only coming for three days. And she might want some time alone; she is fifteen. I don't want her to feel like I'm smothering her. I'm going to give her options. It's not like I've come up with some kind of schedule that must be followed at all costs. I'm not that much of a micromanager._

_I am going to buy cupcakes though. The good ones, with the awesome chocolate icing._

_Seriously Jane, I know you tell me not to worry, but you will tell me if there's something I can do, right? I _

_hope staying put for a week helps a little. Maybe you just need to stop travelling for a couple of days. You have been reasonably settled for the last decade or so. Give yourself some time to adjust to the change (I know that's what you're trying to do and there are a lot of changes, I just... I don't have any better advice)._

_Until next time,_

_Lisbon_

_P.S. Do you really think I'm the cool aunt?_

x

The rest of the week went by relatively quickly. Lisbon didn't hear from Jane again, well, except for another post card. He sent her a postcard of Fortuna with a brass band on the front. Apparently he'd been to an outdoor concert that day and wanted to share. She chuckled and decided to wait for his next letter before replying. There hadn't been enough time for her letter to get to him and for him to write back anyway.

In the meantime, she should probably clean her apartment. Annie was due to arrive the next day.

xxx

Lisbon met Annie at the train station, grinning broadly. "How was the trip?" she asked, grabbing one of her niece's bags after giving her a hug.

Annie shrugged. "It was okay. I had my iPod and magazines and stuff, so..."

"Right," Lisbon nodded as she started leading the way to the parking lot. "Seeing as it's late, and I know you had school all day..."

"Thrilling as it was," Annie muttered.

Lisbon smirked. "I'm sure it was fine. Anyway, I figured you'd be tired. So I thought tonight we could maybe just order Chinese food and watch movies at my place, then we can figure out what we want to do tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Annie agreed.

"You in the mood for romance, comedy or action?" Lisbon asked, even if she was fairly certain she knew what the answer would be.

"Action, all the way," Annie said immediately.

"I thought you'd say that," Lisbon laughed. "I just bought the Bourne Trilogy if you're interested."

Annie shrugged, "Sure, I haven't seen those in a while."

"And you're okay with Chinese food?" Lisbon double-checked.

"Yeah."

"If you're not okay with something, you can tell me," Lisbon felt compelled to point out.

Annie rolled her eyes. "It's cool, Aunt Reese. _Relax_. Sounds good so far."

Lisbon ignored the order to calm herself and unlocked the doors of her SUV. "And maybe shopping tomorrow."

"Okay," Annie said with a grin as she got into the passenger seat.

Lisbon smiled back before changing the subject, "So how's your Dad doing?"

Annie leaned back in her seat and filled her aunt in on all of the latest news while Lisbon steered them towards her condo.

xxx

About an hour later the two women were perched on the couch, cartons of Chinese food in front of them, half-watching a movie they'd both seen a half a dozen times.

Lisbon wasn't completely engrossed in the movie, but she was always happy to watch it again. Apparently Annie wasn't particularly invested either, striking up a conversation as she picked at what was left of the chicken fried rice.

.

"So you're really not going to ask me what I want to talk to you about, are you?" the teenager wondered.

"Nope," Lisbon replied easily, deliberately keeping her focus on the screen. She'd learned long ago that it was no use trying to force teenagers to tell you things. Better to let them bring it up on their own time.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Annie pause. "Really?" the girl asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Nope," Lisbon repeated.

Annie leaned back against the cushions. "I thought you'd be asking all sorts of questions the second I walked off the train."

Lisbon shook her head. She'd had a fair bit of experience dealing with teenagers over the years, and although she was curious about what Annie wanted to talk to her about, she really was trying to be better at giving people space. She didn't always succeed, but she figured whatever Annie wanted to discuss, it wasn't a genuine crisis of any kind. Lisbon figured she could give it at least another twenty-four hours before she got worried. "This isn't an interrogation, Annie. You can tell me when you're ready. If you want to do that over Chinese food and movies, that's your decision. Or you can tell me later."

"Oh."

"I assume it's nothing dangerous, or anything," Lisbon double-checked.

Annie shook her head immediately. "No, no..."

"Because if it was, then I might have to start interrogating you," Lisbon joked.

"Right."

"Okay," Lisbon nodded, temporarily closing the subject. "Do you want a cupcake?"

"You made cupcakes?" Annie asked in surprise.

Her aunt laughed. "No. I bought them, but they're really good. I got chocolate ones."

Annie smirked, "Okay, yeah."

"Don't get me wrong," Lisbon continued as she stood to grab the deserts. "I am curious about your mystery topic, but we've got a few days, whenever you're up for it. I'm not going to force you to tell me."

"No, you're just going to buy me chocolate, and sit there waiting," Annie said dryly.

"Yup."

Annie sighed and took a cupcake, removed the wrapper and started to eat it.

Lisbon settled back onto the couch herself. She figured she'd laid the groundwork for communication pretty well for later in the weekend, so she was a bit surprised when Annie spoke. "Do you think Dad would let me date a boy? Or do you think he'd totally freak out."

Lisbon glanced over, biting the inside of her lip to stop from laughing. It wasn't what she'd been expecting, but she really should have known. "I don't see why not," she said softly. "Provided you followed curfew and stuff."

"Yeah," Annie muttered. "That's what I thought. I mean, I go to parties and dances and whatever sometimes. I go out with my friends, but I've never really gone out with just one guy, on our own, like a real date."

"Is there someone who's asked you on a date, Annie?" Lisbon asked, eyes twinkling.

"No," Annie muttered darkly.

Lisbon frowned. "What?"

Annie shook her head quickly. "I don't even know why I asked. It's totally not even an issue right now." She stood up quickly.

"Sit." Lisbon ordered gently. "And tell me what's going on."

Annie glared at her, but did sit back down. "Thought you said this wasn't an interrogation?"

"It isn't," Lisbon countered. "You started this, and now I think you should explain what you mean. What's more, I think you want to. Is there someone you'd _like_ to ask you on a date?"

Annie sighed. "Maybe."

Lisbon knew that meant "yes." Things were starting to fall into place a little. "I see," she said neutrally.

Annie sighed again, louder this time. "Fine, there's this boy..."

Lisbon was glad years and years of actual interrogations had given her a pretty good poker face, otherwise she'd be grinning right now, "Yes?"

"He's in my science class," Annie continued.

"Uh huh."

"He's super nice, and really cute," she blurted out.

Lisbon did grin then. "Sounds good so far."

"I like him," her niece muttered, blushing furiously and staring at her plate.

Lisbon let herself smile wider, confident it wouldn't be noticed. "I figured. Does he like you?"

Annie shook her head slowly, still staring at her knees, "I don't think so. Not like that, anyway."

Lisbon winced in sympathy. An unrequited crush was never a pleasant feeling, no matter what your age was, "What makes you say that?"

"All he ever talks to me about is science experiments," Annie muttered.

Under the circumstances, Lisbon didn't think that was a huge problem. "You are in science class."

"Yeah, but still, he could talk to me about other things sometimes," Annie griped. "He seriously always talks to me about science. Every single day."

Lisbon considered her options, wondering how best to go about this. She'd never really had much practice talking to teenage girls, what with three brothers. And relationships certainly weren't her strong suit, either in high school or now. "Maybe it's just easier to talk to you about science," she suggested. "Maybe he's just using science an excuse to talk to you."

Annie looked up hopefully. "You think?"

Lisbon smiled encouragingly. "I think it's a definite possibility. Especially if he talks to you _every day_."

Annie bit her lip. "Well, most days. But it's pretty friendly talk."

"Does he talk to all the girls in the class like he talks to you?" Lisbon asked.

Annie shook her head. "Mostly just me. He talks to the other girls sometimes, but his desk is closest to mine, and I'm pretty good at science. So it makes sense that he'd talk to me."

"Does he talk to you the most in general?" Lisbon asked.

Annie considered that. "Yeah."

Lisbon nodded. "Well, if a guy treats you differently, it usually means something," she pointed out.

"But he still might just want to be friends," Annie muttered.

"He might," Lisbon agreed. "I don't know for sure, but it sounds like he's trying to get to know you. Maybe he's just working up the courage to do something about it."

"Maybe," Annie said, biting her lip.

"You're not making me feel like I'm much of a help," Lisbon said.

Annie blushed. "I just... I don't know how you're supposed to know if a guy really likes you."

Lisbon laughed before she could help herself, "Oh, sweetie, no one really knows that."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," her niece groaned, dropping back into the couch cushions.

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed, mirroring her position on the other end of the couch.

"I mean," Annie continued. "The guy who has a crush on Veronica's always telling her how pretty she looks, like, all the time. It's annoying actually, especially since she likes a totally different guy. And Suzie's boyfriend's always writing her these private little notes, and leaving them in her locker. Plus he's always offering to carry her books and giving her little gifts, like chocolate bars and stuff. There was a guy who liked Diane, and he talked to her about parties, and movies they could go to, and hanging around her at lunch. But they always seem to just_ know_ when a guy likes them. I don't know how. Or at least, they mostly know. Not always. But I can't ask them. I just... it's so awkward. And anyway, Dylan, that's the guy's name by the way, doesn't do any of the usual kind of stuff. He told me he liked my haircut once, but it looked really different, so I don't think that counts."

"Well, maybe he's just a bit shy," Lisbon suggested. "Have you _tried_ talking to him about other things, things other than science, I mean?"

"Like what?" Annie asked.

"Like if there's a movie that you want to see, maybe something sci-fi so it's easier to casually work it into the conversation. See if he takes the hint," Lisbon suggested, quite pleased with her sudden inspiration.

Annie paused. "That's actually a good idea," she said suddenly sitting up and sounding pleased.

"Thanks," Lisbon said dryly.

"And you don't think Dad would freak out if Dylan did ask me to a movie or something?" Annie double-checked hopefully.

"Oh, he'd definitely freak out," Lisbon told her honestly.

The teenager gave another huge sigh and collapsed back against the couch cushions. "_Great."_

"He's your father, Annie," Lisbon said softly. "That's his job. But I think he'd let you go, especially if you promised to be back by a certain time and call if anything happened. If it's an issue, tell him to call me, and I'll see if there isn't some way we can work it out. But if this guy's as nice as you say, I don't think your Dad'd have any problems. You're getting older. He wants you to do all the normal teenage things, and you're pretty responsible."

"Yeah, well, like I said, Dylan probably doesn't even like me that way anyway," Annie said glumly.

Lisbon sighed, remembering how absolutely exhausting teenage relationship dramas could be. And this one wasn't even that bad. She was glad she didn't have to deal with this sort of thing every weekend. "You don't know that," she said, trying to be as supportive as possible.

"Why are boys so stupid?" Annie demanded suddenly in irritation.

"Wish I could tell you," Lisbon said honestly.

"I wish I knew a way to make him like me," Annie continued, obviously having moved from depressed to aggravated. "What do guys like?"

"Guys?" Lisbon asked. "I hate to tell you sweetie, but this is hardly my area of expertise. You sure you don't want me to show you how to tackle someone twice your size to the ground?"

Annie's eyes suddenly lit up. "You'd really show me how to take someone down?"

Lisbon froze, realizing her error. "That's not what I meant," she said back-tracking. Then she paused to consider it. "But actually, well, uh, yeah, I guess. I could do that. If you want, maybe we can go to the gym tomorrow instead of shopping. It'd be a useful skill for you to have probably anyway, a little self-defence, that kind of thing."

Annie's eyes were fixed on her now, boy-troubles temporarily forgotten. "You're serious."

"Sure," Lisbon shrugged awkwardly.

Annie grinned. "That is so _awesome._"

"Um, okay..."

"Can we go to the shooting range too?" Annie asked, excited.

"_What?"_ Lisbon asked, shocked.

"Uncle James once told me you were the best shot in the family," Annie said slowly.

"Well," Lisbon muttered. "That's true, but..."

"But?" Annie asked. Then sending her aunt a winning smile, she continued in a wheedling tone. "I'm around guns more now, with Dad's new job. And like I told you, I want to be a cop. Isn't it better that I get lessons from someone who really knows what they're doing? Learn from the best and all that?"

Lisbon smiled in spite of herself. "Flattery will get you nowhere, kid."

"Come on, Aunt Reese, _please?"_ the teenager pleaded.

"We'll see, Annie, okay? Guns aren't toys." Annie opened her mouth to interrupt, but Lisbon cut her off. "And I know you say that you know that, but I've seen up close and personal what guns can do. I've fired one, at people, more times than I like to think about, okay? If we go to the shooting range, we need to talk about that part of it first."

"Okay," Annie said turning serious.

"Okay," Lisbon agreed. "I'll take you to the gym tomorrow morning for a lesson on take-downs and then we'll see how we feel about the shooting range afterwards."

"You are so the coolest aunt, _ever_," Annie replied.

"Thanks," Lisbon said dryly. She might not be great on the boy stuff, but she could do weapons and tackling. If that made her cool, so be it. Then she smirked, remembered Jane's opinion on the subject. Which reminded her, she'd forgotten to check the mail when she got home, what with Annie's arrival. She was probably due for a letter. She'd check it when she took out the garbage from the take-out.

Standing, she started collecting the empty cartons, instructing Annie to stick the ones with leftovers in the fridge. Then she grabbed the rest, tossed them in a bag and casually told her niece she was just going to toss them outside straight away before they started to smell adding that Annie should feel free to make herself at home. Then, after hearing her niece's quick, "Okay," Lisbon slipped out of the condo.

Happily, there_ was_ a letter in her mailbox. Lisbon was willing to admit (at least to herself) that she'd have been quite disappointed if there hadn't been. After all, it _had_ been longer than usual between notes...

Grinning to herself, she walked back into her apartment, and began searching for her niece. Noticing that Annie's suitcase was no longer sitting by the couch, Lisbon figured Annie was unpacking in the spare room. Figuring she'd give her niece a few minutes of privacy, Lisbon dropped back onto the couch to read her latest letter.

x

_Fortuna, California_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Can we agree that both of us have the right to worry about the other? I think that's probably the best thing at this point. I'm certainly not about to stop being concerned when you write to me sounding exhausted, and you couldn't stop worrying if you had a gun to your head (yes, I realize there's something inherently wrong with that metaphor). Also, you'll forgive me if I don't stick to a sleep schedule. I'm also not going to start keeping a dream diary or come up with my own little happy place before bed. But, I will have you know that I slept six hours last night. It was a good night._

_Have you developed a fictional crush, Teresa? Need I remind you that your Lord Peter is already spoken for, at least eventually? I just wouldn't want you to end up fictionally heartbroken, or feeling betrayed. I feel as your literary confidante, that it is my duty to look out for you in the world of fiction._

_Your list of things to do with Annie sounds lovely, Teresa. I'm sure you girls will take Sacramento by storm. Because yes, you absolutely are the cool aunt. Keep me posted on any important developments there. My week hasn't been particularly exciting. Not a lot new to report since my last letter, so I could use a good story or two._

_Staying put for a while has been nice though. I met a guy who was looking for a fill in act at his club for a week. It's part of the reason I stuck around. I kept busy with that, telling people all of their secrets. No pretending to be a psychic, just proving how easy it was to pretend to read people's minds and fool them, if you're paying attention. Seemed to go over well, and it gave me something to do. But the regular act's back now, so I guess I'll continue my trek northward (still too lazy to switch highways)._

_I hope you girls enjoy your cupcakes,_

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon grinned as she finished her letter. It was nice to hear Jane sounding so positive. He definitely sounded better than last week. That was nice. She wondered what his impromptu act had been like, especially if he hadn't claimed to be a psychic. He'd have had to adjust. Although, knowing Jane, that would have been no problem. Lisbon was so engrossed her in thoughts that she didn't hear Annie walk back into the room.

"What's that?" her niece asked curiously.

Lisbon started, guiltily. "Uh..."

Annie glanced down briefly. "Never mind, sorry. It's none of my business."

Lisbon shook her head. "No, it's fine. I just didn't hear you come in. It's a letter from Jane."

"_Jane?"_ Annie repeated, obviously surprised.

"Yeah," Lisbon said, determined to be calm, and trying hard not to feel like she'd been caught at something she shouldn't have been doing. It was perfectly normal to keep in touch with a friend who'd left town. Sure, in this day and age most people didn't use letters to do it. But most people weren't trying to keep in touch with Patrick Jane.

Annie curled back up on her end of the couch. "He writes you letters?" she double-checked.

"Uh huh," Lisbon agreed.

"That's so sweet," Annie replied.

Lisbon looked over sharply, eyes narrowed.

Annie's expression turned suddenly mischievous. "Actually, it's kinda romantic."

Lisbon glared at her, willing herself not to blush, or really react in any way.

Annie giggled, obviously enjoying herself. "Aunt Reese, is there something _you_ want to talk about? Boy troubles..."

But Lisbon cut her before she could finish, "It's not like that Annabeth."

For once the teenager didn't *object to the use of her first name. "Okay..."

"Jane and I are friends," Lisbon explained, really hoping that would be the end of it. She did _not_ want to have to start in on the oddity of her relationship with the man. It was difficult to understand at the best of times. With Jane halfway across the state... Besides, Lisbon wasn't always sure _she_ understood it herself.

"Sure," Annie replied easily. "And even though he left the CBI a while ago, he still writes to you, regularly, I'm guessing."

"We keep in touch," Lisbon admitted.

"So?" Annie asked, smiling again.

"Oh, cut it out," Lisbon laughed. "It's _Jane._ He was my consultant. There's history, friendship. And he's got stuff of his own. It's complicated," Lisbon explained.

Annie just shrugged. "Is life always?"

Lisbon chuckled softly to herself. "Well, yeah, but you're _fifteen_. Shouldn't you be a little less, I don't know, cynical?"

"I like a boy who barely even knows I exist beyond some kind of asexual science buddy," Annie reminded her.

"I think you're wrong there," Lisbon replied.

Annie bit her lip. "He asks about you a lot, you know."

"The boy you like?" Lisbon asked with a grin. "Because if he knows _I_ exist, then he definitely knows you do."

Annie smiled. "I wish. No, I meant Jane. He, uh, he texts me sometimes," she added when she saw the shocked expression on her aunt's face. "Not a lot, but sometimes."

"Oh," Lisbon replied, not sure how she felt about that. Then she shook her head. Why should she feel anything about it? It was a bit odd it hadn't come up before in letters from Jane or her conversations with Annie, but there was nothing wrong with it. It somehow made an odd sort of sense, well, Jane-sense anyway. Writing letters to her, texting her niece. She doubted Annie, like most of her generation, was much into letter-writing, in spite of Jane's desire to bring back the lost art.

Besides, she knew Jane only had one regular pen pal.

"It's nice that you've kept in touch with Jane," Lisbon added after a second. "You should feel privileged, or maybe cursed."

Annie grinned quickly, before biting her lip.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked.

"I think he misses you," the teenager blurted out.

Lisbon really didn't know what to say about _that_. It wasn't surprising information, in a way. And of course she missed Jane too, but... but... And Annie thought her own problems were complicated. "Oh."

"Do you miss him?" her niece asked tentatively.

"Of course I do," Lisbon said quietly. "But like I said, he's got about a million things to sort out in his brain right now. He needs the time. He needs to figure out what he wants from life. I hope he does. Like I said, he's my friend."

In answer to that, Annie just leaned her head against the back of the couch. "Boys suck."

Lisbon smirked again, settling back beside her. "Yeah, sometimes."

"At least after tomorrow I'll know how to take 'em down," Annie muttered.

Lisbon laughed.

xxx

Lisbon decided to wait until Annie'd gone to bed to answer her letter. She didn't mind her niece knowing about the correspondence, but she was still going to write her letters in private. It would be way too strange to write them in front of someone.

Besides, it sounded like Annie'd already come to some pretty crazy conclusions about what was going on between Lisbon and her former consultant.

Not that Lisbon had felt like explaining the nature of her friendship with Jane to a teenager. Best to just keep things simple.

Like writing letters.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Did I suggest that you keep a dream diary? Did I? I did not. I am not so foolish. I have also not suggested finding a happy place, or seeing a doctor. I am well aware that to suggest such things to you would be wasting my breath (or I suppose, in this case, wasting the ink in my pen). I merely pointed out that those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and in this particular situation, you are in one heck of a glass house._

_Nothing wrong with a little fictional crush. Sometimes that's half the fun of a book. I'm sure you've had your fair share, so hush. I'm allowed._

_Speaking of crushes, I had to give advice on boys today. I haven't given anyone advice on boys in years. The closest I've come was after Van Pelt and Rigsby ended things and you ABANDONNED me, leaving me alone with her in the elevator. Crying. Thank heavens it was only three floors. God that was awkward. I did my best, both with her and today. I hope my advice works out. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I can't tell you the details. Unofficial girl talk rules and all that._

_I can however, tell you that I have somehow let myself be talked into showing my niece how to take down a suspect. Also, we might go to the shooting range afterwards. Part of me isn't thrilled with it at all, but then the rest of me wants to make sure she learns it right, y'know? Besides, it might be kinda fun. I haven't taught a class in takedown procedure in a while. It'll stop me from getting rusty._

_All of this means, as I'm sure you've gathered, that Annie has arrived. She just got here today. So far everything's been going pretty well. I think it'll be a good weekend. The weather's supposed to be nice at least._

_Oh, which reminds me, you didn't tell me you were still texting Annie sometimes. That's nice. It's nice to know that in an emergency, you do have a phone. Don't worry; I'm not going to hunt you down. But I suspect you know that already, or you wouldn't have done it. Still, texting, Patrick? What happened to reviving the long lost art of letter writing?_

_Besides, I like our letters._

_Anyway, I should go to bed. I've got a busy weekend ahead of me from the sounds of it, starting with tackling lessons. I hope that your temporary job went well. I'm sure it did. It must have been nice having something to do for a few days. Hope resuming your travels works out too._

_-L_

x

Both Lisbons were up early the next morning, ready to start the day (although technically for the elder Lisbon, it was a late morning. But that had more to do with the fact that she tended to show up at the office pretty damn early).

Annie was up, clearly excited about her tackling lesson.

In all honestly, Lisbon was as well.

After a tiring, but instructive morning (Lisbon wasn't surprised to learn that Annie was a quick study when she wanted to be), a long lunch at the Mexican restaurant Lisbon (and now Annie) loved, and part of an afternoon at the shooting range (after a serious discussion about responsible gun use, which, to her credit, Annie seemed to pay attention to), Lisbon figured figured they were due for a break.

Also known as frozen yoghurt in the park.

Lisbon knew the quiet wouldn't last. Annie'd been glancing at her ever few minutes in exactly the same way she had the night before, right before bringing up her boy troubles. Lisbon mentally prepared herself for another serious discussion. At least she could be pretty sure this one wouldn't have anything to do with romance, thank heavens.

"Aunt Reese?" Annie asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

Her niece looked nervous. "I..."

Lisbon closed her eyes briefly, suddenly knowing exactly what was coming. "Just ask me Annabeth."

"What's it like to shoot someone?" Annie asked in a whoosh of air.

Lisbon turned off to the side, considering her answer. "It's a lot of things," she said eventually. "I'm not gonna lie to you. It does make you feel powerful at first, at least for a few seconds. Then you kind of feel numb, at least I did. And it can sometimes make you feel sick to your stomach. It definitely makes me feel sad, really sad. And I'm not the only one who felt this way, I can tell you that for sure. First time I fired my weapon as a rookie, I cried for an hour later. Couldn't help it. Even though it was a justified shooting. Even though I was protecting an innocent woman. Shooting someone changes you. It should change you. It has to. And if this is the career you're picking. You need to be prepared for that."

Annie swallowed. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"That why you didn't like Dad's job, isn't it?" Annie asked.

Lisbon smiled in spite of herself. Irritatingly perceptive kid. "One of the reasons," she admitted. "Even if, far as I know, your Dad hasn't shot someone. Not yet at least. And oh god, don't correct me if you know different."

"He hasn't," Annie confirmed.

"Okay."

"And that's why you spent like an hour giving me a lecture on everything there is to know about guns today," Annie added.

Lisbon turned towards her, deliberately meeting her niece's eyes. "If you're gonna do this, be a cop, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you do it right. And if I ever find out you're not, I will hunt you down and make today's so-called lecture feel like breezy conversation in comparison, you understand?"

Annie nodded. "I understand."

"Good. You have any other questions?" Lisbon murmured.

Annie shook her head. "Not right now."

"Okay, well if you think of any..."

"Yeah."

Lisbon nodded awkwardly.

"Thanks," Annie said after a second.

Lisbon glanced over. "For what?"

Annie shrugged. "I dunno. Talking to me like I'm an adult, I guess."

Lisbon bit her lip. "I guess I'd rather you talk to me than someone who doesn't know what they're doing."

"I will. I promise," Annie assured her.

"Then I guess the shooting range was a good idea," Lisbon conceded in relief. "Although, you're already a pretty good shot."

"Yeah?" Annie asked, obviously pleased by the compliment. "Thanks." Then she grinned. "You're not bad either."

"What happened to the best shot in the family?" Lisbon asked dryly.

"You said flattery would get me nowhere," Annie reminded her innocently.

Lisbon chuckled. "So, you ready to head back to my place? Your Dad reminded me when he called this morning that you have homework."

Annie grumbled. "It's just stupid math problems. All the other teachers were nice and didn't assign anything over the long weekend."

"Still," Lisbon said. "Probably best to get it done now so it's out of the way."

"Fine," Annie agreed. "And then we can figure out what we'll do tomorrow."

"I have a list," Lisbon told her.

Annie rolled her eyes. "Of course you do."

"Oh shush."

xxx

Lisbon checked her mail out of habit when she got home; she ignored Annie's smirk.

To her surprise, there was another envelope from Jane.

"He writes to you _every day_?" Annie asked incredulously when she saw it.

Lisbon shook her head. "No," she said. "I definitely wasn't expecting anything.

"Do you want me to leave you alone while you read it?" Annie asked. "Because I can."

Lisbon shook her head again as she opened it. "It's fine. You should do your math homework though."

"_Yes Aunt Reese,_" Annie mocked, as she turned to get it.

Lisbon ignored her tone, too curious about the unexpected letter.

The note that she pulled out certainly wasn't long.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I hope this gets to you in time. In answer to your earlier question, yes, Annie did enjoy the spa last time. I'm sure she'll enjoy it again. You should try to too._

_Love Jane_

x

Along with the brief message, Jane had included a voucher for a spa trip for two.

Lisbon bit her lip to contain her smile.

She wandered over to her spare room and knocked on the door.

"Come on in," Annie called from inside.

Lisbon poked her head in, smiling when she saw the girl on the bed, binder perched on her knees, textbook beside her. "You could have do that at the kitchen table," she said dryly.

Annie shook her head. "This is fine. I always do my math homework on my bed."

"Okay," Lisbon agreed. "About tomorrow, how do you feel about going to the spa?"

Annie looked up. "Really?"

Lisbon nodded. Then she held up the voucher. "Jane's treat."

Annie blinked. "Jane sent us spa passes?"

"Yup."

"_Awesome_," Annie said with a grin.

Lisbon laughed. "Okay, the spa it is. Then maybe afterwards we can go shopping, like you wanted."

"Sure!" Annie said enthusiastically.

"If you finish your homework," Lisbon reminded her.

Annie rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna finish this tonight. It's not that much. Just some math problems."

"Good," Lisbon agreed. "Although, maybe we shoulda spread this out better. We did the gym and the shooting range today and then the spa and shopping tomorrow. We should have mixed up the type of activities..."

Annie shrugged. "Whatever. It works."

Lisbon had to agree. "Besides, Jane just sent the spa passes today."

"Exactly."

"I'll let you get back to your homework," Lisbon said, shutting the door again, and ignoring the look on her niece's face.

Teenagers.

They always thought they knew everything.

xxx

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Here we go, the next one. Sorry for the delay, I've been planning out the rest of this, not the easiest thing in the world, given that there is now a geographical component of this thing. But I think I have it all mostly straight now. The one drawback is that I'm not writing strictly chronologically, which isn't always great for posting chapters. Oh, also, as a disclaimer: I have never actually been to California. My knowledge is based on the internet and google maps. If I get something wrong, I apologize. I'm doing my best.

xxx

Chapter 12

xxx

The rest of the weekend practically flew by. At least, that's how it felt to Lisbon. She and Annie started out at the spa on Saturday morning, taking full advantage of Jane's generosity by getting massages and all manner of spa treatments (some of which Lisbon admitted privately that she could have done without). Still, by mid-afternoon she felt completely relaxed, even if she was perfectly happy to leave.

Anyway, it was time for their shopping trip.

The two Lisbon women spent the next three hours rifling through clothing store after clothing store. Lisbon made a few suggestions, but soon learned it was futile. Annie already seemed to have a good idea of what she wanted, at least in theory. Lisbon's role was more to give advice on her selections, which she did happily. By the end of the day, she'd finally figured out what her niece was after, and her tentative suggestions were received more positively.

It turned out Annie wanted to look pretty.

Or more specifically, she wanted to stand out a little, and maybe make a certain someone take notice. Not that she ever said it.

Lisbon threw herself into the task enthusiastically.

She may have gone a little overboard, in the end, but she didn't care. She'd had such a good time. And so had Annie.

Saturday night had been quiet, both women were basically exhausted. They got dinner, then pretty much collapsed back at Lisbon's place.

Then, on Sunday it was time for Annie to go.

Lisbon regretfully dropped her off at the bus station with a hug.

"You come back soon, okay?" she told her niece. "And keep me posted on what happens with Dylan."

"If anything," Annie said dryly. "But yeah, I'll call. Thanks Aunt Reese, or everything. I had a really great time."

"Me too," Lisbon said. "You're sure you're okay on the bus?"

Annie sighed. "I'm _fine_. Stop worrying."

"Can't help it," Lisbon replied easily. "Have a good trip. Let me know when you get home. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," Annie agreed. "Love you, Aunt Reese."

"Love you to," Lisbon replied, watching the teenager get on the bus. She waited at the station until the bus pulled away, then she turned back towards her condo.

xxx

It was early Sunday evening when Lisbon's phone rang. She grinned when she saw the call display, wondering whether father or daughter was calling her. "Hello," she said as she answered the call.

"You took my daughter to the shooting range?" Lisbon heard her brother's voice in her ear.

She laughed briefly. "It was her choice," she justified.

She heard a shocked pause on the other end of the line. "I'm sure it was, Reese. But honestly, the shooting range?"

"She said she wanted tips, besides, it's not like I handed her a machine gun and told her to go at it. We had a serious talk about guns first," Lisbon explained. "I thought, better she learns it from me than from someone less experienced." 

"Like me, you mean?" Tommy asked.

Lisbon gritted her teeth. "That's not what I meant Tom, and that's not what I said. You've taught her well. And you know as well as I do that there are a million places she could learn about guns. Another person telling her the right way of doing things can't hurt. Besides, she wants to be a cop. We talked about that."

"Right. Sorry," Tommy muttered.

Lisbon pressed a hand to her forehead, wondering why this always happened when she talked to her brother. "I didn't mean you, Tommy. Are you mad?"

He sighed, and conceded. "No, I'm not mad. I'm just surprised. You certainly never suggested we go to the shooting range."

"We can next time," Lisbon suggested tentatively. "Make it a family outing."

Tommy laughed. "That's our family. I guess I wasn't expecting you to be so, I don't know, okay with it all. After the last time we saw each other you seemed pretty against Annie being anywhere near a gun."

"I know, I know. I just... I'm trying," Lisbon explained. "And at least if I talk to her about it first I can feel a bit better about it all. She's quite the shot."

"Yes she is," Tommy agreed. "Takes after her aunt."

Lisbon chuckled, relaxing slightly, taking the compliment for the apology that it was. "Thanks. I do what I can. I take it this means you both got home safe and sound?"

"We did. And I got to hear all about the weekend along the way. The shooting range then the spa? That's quite the range of activities, Reese," her brother teased.

Lisbon shrugged. "We're women of many interests."

"And Annie told me all about them," Tommy said dryly, but Lisbon could tell he was pleased.

She smiled. "Annie tells me the new job's going well for you."

"It is," Tommy agreed, and Lisbon could hear the pride in his voice. So she put on a smile.

"That's great," she told him. "I'm glad."

"Thanks Reese," Tommy replied. "And thanks for taking Annie this weekend. She really has been talking my ear off about it since she got back. Apparently you give pretty good advice sometimes."

Lisbon laughed, "High praise from my bullheaded younger brother. But it was my pleasure. She's welcome any time, you know that. And if she ever needs to talk, she knows where I am."

Tommy exhaled in relief. "Yeah, thanks for that too. I'm not so good at the girl stuff, and it's coming up more and more. What'd you guys talk about anyway? Is it something I need to be worried about?"

"Can't tell you that, Tom," Lisbon said. "That's the point of girl talk."

"Oh come on Reese!" he whined. "Just give me a heads up."

"Nope," Lisbon said, now thoroughly enjoying herself. "But you'll probably be hearing about it soon enough yourself."

"Oh god, it's boys, isn't it?" her brother groaned. "I _knew_ it."

Lisbon smirked. "I couldn't possibly comment."

"_Reese..._"

Lisbon softened. "Tommy, if I tell you, she'll never tell me another thing again. And I think we can both agree that it's good if she has someone sensible that she can talk to. In the meantime, relax; you've got a good kid there."

"You're enjoying this," her brother accused.

"Yes I am," Lisbon agreed.

"That's just cruel," he muttered. "I'm a single father here. Don't I get a little sympathy?"

"Nope," Lisbon said cheerfully.

"Great."

She smirked. "In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't just take Annie to the shooting range. There may have been a class on tackling as well."

Tommy groaned again.

She laughed.

Suddenly Tommy brightened. "Wait," he clarified. "Are you telling me that you taught my daughter how to knock someone bigger than her to the ground? Like a guy who was pestering her?"

"Yup."

"Nice job, Reese!" he said enthusiastically.

"I thought you'd like that," Lisbon murmured. "Probably more interesting to you than our shopping trip."

"Oh, speaking of that," Tommy replied. "I saw Annie's new clothes. You didn't need to buy her all that stuff."

"I didn't buy _all_ of it," Lisbon defended. "She paid for some of it herself. I just got her a few presents. She's in high school, and clothes are important."

"Still, it's too much," Tommy argued. "Let me pay you back."

But Lisbon shook her head. "No Tom, not necessary."

"_Reese._"

"No," Lisbon replied firmly. She wasn't going to take his money. "I know I may have gone a little overboard..."

"_A little?" _her brother asked scathingly. "Reese, I think you bought out half the store."

"Oh, I did not," Lisbon replied. "You're exaggerating. I just bought her a couple of outfits."

"_Just_... Reese, you didn't have to do that."

"I know I didn't _have_ to," Lisbon snapped. "I... Look, it's been so long since I've had someone to go pick out a new outfit with, spoil a little. Anyway, a few new outfits won't hurt Annie. Please Tom, don't... We had fun."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Tommy?" Lisbon asked tentatively.

"I miss you too, Reese," he said gruffly.

"Yeah, well, you should visit more," she shot back.

"_You_ should come for Christmas," Tommy said spontaneously.

The offer surprised her. "What?"

"Come for Christmas," Tommy repeated. "Please. The kid'd love it. We'll do the big dinner. You can stay a few days. It'll be fun. Unless you have other plans?" he added as an afterthought.

Lisbon paused. She hadn't really thought too much about Christmas. Sometimes she spent it with her brothers, but often she just stuck around Sacramento. It was always very low key. She liked having a few days to relax all by herself in the city, away from work. The last couple of years she'd ended up spending part of the day with Jane actually. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Jane. Who would be god only knew where come the end of December. Suddenly Christmas in Sacramento (_alone_) sounded like something akin to a prison sentence.

"I'd love to," she said in a whoosh. "That sounds great! Can I bring anything? What were you planning?"

Her brother laughed. "Whoa, whoa, Reese! Hold up! We've got a couple months to plan yet. Let me think about it, and I'll let you know if there's anything you can do. Just promise you'll bring yourself."

"I'll be there," Lisbon assured him, suddenly excited. "Just get back to me on the other stuff."

"I will," her brother told her. "Now, I should go and check that my daughter has actually gone to bed, and isn't, I don't know, doing whatever teenagers do."

"Say good night for me," Lisbon ordered.

"I will," Tommy promised. "And thanks again, Reese."

"Always, you idiot."

Lisbon could picture her brother smiling at that. "You have a good night too," he told her with a laugh.

"Night Tommy," she replied before hanging up her phone.

She smiled at the phone in her hand briefly.

After hanging up, Lisbon glanced around her empty apartment, feeling lonely. She sat down to write a letter to Jane with the intention of distracting herself. It didn't quite work out as planned because it just made her wish that he was there with her.

But she wrote the letter anyway, because she wanted to tell him about her weekend, and she knew he wanted to hear it. And even if telling him in person would have been better (would have made her apartment seem less quiet), the letter would have to do.

xxx

_Dear Jane,_

_Well, I'm all by my lonesome again._

_Annie's gone. She left earlier today, adamant that she could take the bus and I didn't have to drive her. Her Dad picked her up at the bus station. He just called. They both got in safe and sound. I was questioned about my decision to take her to the shooting range, but I think Tommy's okay with it now. He was just a little surprised by it all, I think. He was positively thrilled when I mentioned that I taught Annie how to knock a boy to the ground if necessary. But then, I also apparently bought her too many presents. But I don't care what he thinks about that. Annie and I had a good time on our shopping trip. That's all that matters._

_Besides, I just got her a few things. And they're for school. It's nice to get new things sometimes. I bought a couple things for myself too. I had fun, even if the whole weekend was a little exhausting, but in a good way this time (don't go offering to send me another stupid sleep schedule)._

_Anyway, shopping was yesterday afternoon. We ended with dinner (the Mexican restaurant that I knew she'd like), some TV and some cards. Then today was brunch, packing, and getting to the bus station in time. Which we did of course._

_Thank you for the spa trip. That was what we did yesterday morning. You didn't have to do that, but it was very sweet. Relaxing too (which I'm sure was your intention). Annie and I enjoyed ourselves, getting massages and all that good stuff. Really, Saturday was very much a girl's day out._

_Of course, now it's back to the CBI tomorrow. I hope we get a case. I could use the distraction._

_I'm going to send this letter onto Eureka. Don't know how long you're staying in Fortuna. Of course, I also don't know why I'm telling you that. If you get this, you'll know very well where I sent it. If not, well, you'll never read the sentence anyway so it doesn't matter._

_Whatever, I'm not changing it. I hope you're okay._

_-Lisbon_

x

Lisbon sealed and addressed her letter, setting it on the table next to the door to be mailed the next day. Then she glanced around her apartment, before stalking deliberately over to the television, desperate for some noise.

xxx

Lisbon's wished for case did in fact arrive on Monday, to her relief. She was driving to Southern California early the next morning with the rest of her team. And with the new case came the crime scene, the interviews, the theories, the suspects, the interrogations, all the usual things. The four day whirlwind was enough to occupy her brain and get her back into the groove of her life.

Lisbon counted that as a win, even if Van Pelt did almost end up hitting their suspect in a car chase. Lisbon decided that the key word in that sentence was "almost." In the end, no one was hurt, and the suspect was in custody.

Still, smashed up CBI vehicles meant a lot of paperwork, so it was late when she made it back to her apartment once the case was finally closed. Not that she minded. Working late was necessary sometimes. It was part of the job.

But, after a few days of going pretty much nonstop, she was looking forward to relaxing on her couch or in her bathtub.

When she found a letter in her mailbox, Lisbon decided that she'd better at least start with the couch. Wouldn't want the paper to get soggy after all.

xxx

_Crescent City, California,_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I'm on the move again, as you can see. I travelled quite a bit today. All of a sudden I got sick of staying in one place, kicking around Fortuna with nothing to do. The show went well. I enjoyed it for a few days, but then it was done, and I was suddenly just sick of the entire town, so I just got into my car and drove. It's nice to have that freedom. I drove until I got to Crescent City. It's a nice little place so far._

_It's different. And that's what I wanted._

_It is a good thing that I stopped in at a few small towns along the way, or I would have missed your second letter. And that would have been a shame._

_I see I owe you an apology. I promise never to offer to send you a sleep schedule again. Or to suggest that you want me to keep a dream diary. We will both do our best to get as much sleep as we need, in our different ways. I'm glad that you enjoyed the spa trip though. I hope it was relaxing. I've been by the sea lately, and you're right, that does help you relax. I'm glad I could help._

_I'm also glad you had a good weekend with Annie, dear. Don't bother trying to tell me it was tiring; I can see through you. You had the time of your life. And I'm sure your advice about boys was better than you think. You may feel awkward giving it (and by the way, I don't know why you think *my* presence in an elevator with you and a crying Van Pelt would have made anything less awkward), but in the end you always have good intentions, and that makes all the difference._

_I am texting Annie. I have been for a while, which I suppose is why I never thought to mention it to you. It's never anything all that important, so I guess it just never came up. It never really occurred to me to try and write her letters. I suspect I'd get the equivalent of an eye-roll in my next text message, whatever that might be. I suppose this is why the art of letter writing is getting lost. But we're keeping it alive in our own little corner of the world, aren't we Teresa?_

_Anyway, Annie texted me a few days ago. First she was smug about having caught me writing you letters. Apparently this is something you catch someone in now, sending a friend a letter. I disregarded that message. Others followed it. I heard all about your class on tackling. And the lessons at the shooting range. And shopping. _

_Okay, I didn't hear all about any of those things. I heard the highlights. Only so much you can convey via text message, but I got the picture. She may have bragged that she would now be able to knock me to the ground if she ever saw me. I told her that fact was never in any doubt. After all, I'm hardly a difficult target when it comes to feats of physical strength._

_You could certainly get the better on me if it you wanted to. In fact, I seem to recall being punched in the nose more than once over the years..._

_But that's not the point. The point is that it sounds like the two of you had a lovely weekend. I'm happy for you Lisbon._

_I hope you've re-adjusted now. I heard on the radio that the CBI'd been called into a case on the other side of the state. I'm sure that provided the distraction you wanted. Heard it was solved too. Unsurprising, obviously. _

_I'm glad things are going well for you. I continue on, much the same. I think things are alright though. I hope they are. Let's both hope for that, shall we? (I know you always do.)_

_Have a good night, Teresa. I'll write to you soon. And you know that if you ever need to talk, I'll listen. Just write me a letter,_

_As always,_

_-Patrick_

x

Lisbon smiled wistfully. It was a lovely letter. It really was. She yawned.

And she would answer it, just as soon as she had her bath.

xxx

In spite of Jane's offer to listen, or rather read, whatever she wanted to tell him, the two of them had a bit of a communication breakdown over the next few weeks.

Staring at her map with her reply, Lisbon had tried to guess Jane's next move. He'd been driving fairly consistently north since he'd left Sacramento following the highway. But if he continued along that route any further, he'd be leaving California. Of course, there was no reason to think that Jane would stay strictly within the borders of the state. He wasn't bound by CBI jurisdictional issues anymore, after all. Why shouldn't he cross into Oregon? That was where the highway went. It made the most sense, really.

Lisbon had resolved to follow the highway. Which promptly split right outside of Crescent City.

So, hoping for the best, she'd picked somewhere at random and just mailed her reply.

She'd picked wrong.

Jane had apparently decided _not_ to follow the highway as he'd been doing for weeks and weeks. He _had_ decided to stay in California (for who knows what reason), and had taken some random back roads route across the top of the state.

Lisbon figured it was a miracle he hadn't gotten irrevocably lost.

His next letter appeared almost a week later and was full of tales of roads in disrepair, of dirt roads where he hadn't seen another car for ages, of the time he'd thought he'd made a mistake and taken a wrong turn. Reading between the lines, Lisbon was pretty sure he'd slept in his car at least one night during his meanderings (she also gathered that he wasn't travelling particularly quickly, stopping every time a particularly picturesque tree caught his eye from the sounds of it). The letter itself had been mailed from a town so small, Lisbon'd never even heard of it, somewhere in the middle of the National Forest at the top of the state.

Still, Jane's letter had been cheerful. He'd gone on and on about how beautiful everything was up there. So Lisbon suspected he was enjoying himself, even if she was at a complete loss as to where to send the next letter. Who knew where his route would take him. He wasn't driving in anything even resembling a straight line.

She was determined to do her best though. Pulling up her trusty map of California on her laptop, Lisbon decided to send her reply to Fort Jones. It seemed as good a place as any for Jane to emerge from the wilderness in.

A letter arrived two days later from Yreka.

Lisbon scowled as she ripped it open.

Unbelievable, irritating man, just popping up around California whenever it suited him. Ugh.

It was a good thing for him he was halfway across the state. If she saw him in person right, she'd probably punch him in the nose.

He drove around willy-nilly, wherever he damn well pleased, sending her letters, and to send him a freaking reply, she was doing what was basically the equivalent of throwing darts at a map and hoping for the best.

Okay, her method wasn't _quite_ that bad, but _still._

Damn Jane.

x

_Yreka, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I haven't found a letter from you in almost two weeks now. I suppose that's my own fault. My route these past couple weeks hasn't really followed any kind of a set path. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm confined to Yreka for the next few days. My poor car started making funny noises on the last leg of my journey. I took it to a mechanic last night, who promptly started shaking his head in a dismal manner (almost certainly as part of lead up to justify charging me what I am sure will be an exorbitant amount for the repairs). I gather that the problem isn't particularly serious, just something that needs a fair bit of work to sort out._

_So I will be spending a little while exactly where I am. Not that I mind, particularly. I was probably due to stop for a few days anyway, try and get my bearings again, or something._

_When I do get going, maybe I'll follow Highway 5 for a while. There really are almost an innumerable places a person could go in this state, many of which I've never been to. It's ridiculous really. Probably high time I got to know my own home state a bit better. It really is different, driving around the state when you're not going somewhere solely for the purpose of solving a murder. You look at a town a different way, Lisbon. You should try it sometime._

_Anyway, I'm off to the restaurant on the corner to grab some dinner. I've become rather fond of family-owned restaurants on this trip. There's something about them when you're travelling. They're almost comforting, even if the food is terrible. But it's worth it, because sometimes the food is fantastic. It's hit and miss, I guess, just like anything else._

_I hope things are going well with you, Teresa. Let me know, if you're not already too fed up with me and my gallivanting to write back._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon was tempted to not write back, just to show him. Stupid Jane.

But she knew an overture when she saw one, and she'd never been particularly good at saying no to Jane, even at the best of times.

Sighing to herself, she wrenched open her drawer and pulled out a sheet of note-paper.

x

_Dear Aggravation,_

_I'm sending this letter to Yreka, and if you're not there when it arrives and you don't get it, you have no one to blame but yourself._

_Of course you haven't heard from me in a few weeks. How was I to know you'd cut across northern California taking the scenic route, when any sane person just takes the highway through Oregon? Although, I guess that answers my question. You're not sane._

_Alright, I'm done. After all, it's not your fault. I knew what I was getting into when I started writing to you. We both knew that this correspondence wouldn't always be exactly regular. It is what it is._

_So instead of complaining, I will tell you that I'm doing well. Things are much the same here. You sound like you enjoyed your little detour through the forest, for all that your poor car didn't. I just hope that thing doesn't decide to completely fall apart on you one of these days. I can just picture you sitting in it while the wheels and doors just fall right off, like in a cartoon. I've had my doubts about it over the years. Of course, then it always goes and proves me wrong, so I guess all I can do is hope that it continues to do so._

_I know you're not going to become sensible about that thing all of a sudden, that's for sure._

_Sarah and Connor stopped by to see Rigsby the other day at work. He's growing like a weed, and he's into everything. Not that anybody minded, of course. We were keeping a pretty close eye on him. He's such a happy little fellow, always cheerful. Guess he takes after his Dad that way. They're really adorable together. I'm sending you a picture (Rigsby and Sarah just got some new ones taken), which is another reason you'd better be where you say you are._

_Van Pelt's started seeing someone new. He seems nice. He's an architect. I don't know much about him. I think they met playing ultimate Frisbee, or something. As far as I know, there's nothing new with Cho, although sometimes it's hard to tell._

_I need to do laundry, but I'm not going to. I think I'm going to watch TV instead. Laundry can wait. I'm sorry that my life isn't very exciting today, sometimes it's like that._

_Until next time (and yes, I will keep writing. I promise)_

_Teresa_

x

After that, the letters came and went more regularly again. Jane's reply was full of abuse on the subject of his mechanic, who had indeed charged him a ridiculous amount for what, according to Jane, was really a minor repair.

Lisbon pretended to be sympathetic. She was fairly certain he wasn't fooled.

He thanked her for the photo of little Connor, agreeing that he was very like his father.

She told him about how some idiot nearly ran right into her with his car when she did her grocery shopping, and about how work had been busy lately, and seemed to be piling up. She talked about her day, how she was doing, asked him about his travels.

And sometimes she told him about her family.

X

_Dear Jane,_

_I heard from Annie today. Apparently I have graduated from being cool Aunt Teresa to being The Best Aunt Ever. She took my advice, such as it was, and the boy in her class took the hint. They're going to the movies this weekend. I hope it works out. It's her first real date and all that._

_Mine was a bit of a disaster. I wouldn't wish it on her. Neither I, nor the guy I was with could think of a single thing to say to each other. Thank goodness we were going to a movie and didn't have to talk for most of it. Needless to say, the relationship didn't exactly blossom. It was so very awkward. That's the point of first dates though, I guess. Still, I hope Annie's date goes better. It's on Friday._

_Of course, I got a call from Tommy a couple of hours after I talked to his daughter. He was in a panic. I was berated for not telling him about this. Apparently it's all my fault, and all due to my encouragement. I nodded along while he ranted, making encouraging noises whenever appropriate. Then I was forced to point out that he couldn't ground Annie for life because she wanted to go to the movies with a boy, nor could he drive Dylan out to the desert and threaten him with bodily harm if he ever hurt Annie. However, I did remind Tommy that he was well within his rights to tell Dylan all about his job, and what he did for a living. I never thought I'd say this, but my brother being a bounty hunter has some definite advantages. Particularly when it comes to putting the fear of god into teenage boys who want to date my niece._

_Tommy thought so too. He sounded much more cheerful when he hung up the phone. I just hope he doesn't overdo it on the protective Dad front. I don't think he will. He was just freaking out a little._

_It probably says something that my niece's love life is more interesting than my own, but what can you do? There's something to be said for living vicariously through a teenager. I wouldn't want to go through it again myself, but it's definitely interesting._

_How are you? Staying out of trouble I hope. Because between trying to deal with Annie's excitement and nervousness, trying to talk Tommy down from a ledge, and trying to, you know, catch actual murderers, I find myself a little busy this week._

_I hope things are going well for your own sake obviously too._

_Love Lisbon_

x

Jane's reply came a few days later.

x

_Weed, California,_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Ah, young love. There is something kind of fascinating about it, isn't there? Although, I can't say I'm upset that those days are behind me. Life is complicated enough without everything being so all-consuming, every little thing being either wonderful or catastrophic._

_Still, I hope Annie enjoys her little romance. Which, by the way, you are no longer allowed to say that you give terrible advice. Not if this is what results from it. Don't scoff at me Teresa. We both know you're a romantic at heart, underneath that prickly exterior (which isn't always so prickly, but that's another story all together)._

_It sounds like you've got your hands full trying to keep your brother sane. I wish you luck with that. If nothing else, this whole thing has obviously brought the two of you closer. It's nice to hear you so happy. And I told you to give bounty hunting a chance. Nothing can be all bad. Poor Dylan. If that boy sticks it out, he might be a keeper._

_You'll be happy to know that I'm keeping out of trouble. My car is working again, obviously. No problems there. She's always gotten me where I've wanted to go, even if others cruelly roll their eyes. I'm going to stand by her._

_Do you know that Weed, California used to have the world's largest sawmill? There is also a sawmill museum here now. I think tourism is the town's major industry at this point though. It's an interesting little town to pass through. Very pretty, but then, much of California is. I enjoyed my day here. Where, as I said, I kept out of trouble. So you don't need to worry about me._

_Go back to worrying about your brother and your niece for the time being, dear._

_Yours, _

_Jane_

x

Lisbon grinned and sat down immediately to reply. After all, she had the rest of the story to tell Jane now. He'd no doubt enjoy it.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Annie's date with Dylan went well. Which is nice. It wasn't anything like my disaster of a first date. It probably helped that the two of them already talked to each other pretty frequently beforehand. I talked to her a little yesterday. I was very casual, trying to keep up the front of Cool Aunt Teresa. Hard though, given my curiosity. I didn't get many details, and I'm not passing the ones I did get along, confidentiality and all that. But I can tell you that they went to the movie, which was good. Then he bought her ice cream, and they talked. According to Annie he's very nice and funny. And she thinks he liked her._

_I'm guessing he does, because apparently there are already whispers of a second date, possibly for next weekend. Which is nice. As long as she's happy._

_Tommy is still trying not to have a coronary. I think he feels a little bit better now that he's actually met Dylan. Tommy's definitely comforted by the fact that he's pretty sure he managed to strike fear into Dylan's heart with all his tales of bounty hunting, and chasing suspects across California with a trunk full of firearms. He seemed particularly pleased about that last bit when he called to tell me about his success in scaring the crap out of a high school student._

_Annie told me why later. Apparently Tommy didn't limit himself to stories about Annie's bounty hunter Dad. Turns out Tommy also mentioned Annie's favourite Aunt Lisbon who works for the CBI, catches murderers for a living, and taught Annie how to knock a man twice her size to the ground without breaking a sweat. Nice to know I can help in scaring the crap out of a teenager._

_Well, it's good enough for him. He'd better not hurt her._

_Annie was unimpressed with her father's behaviour. I maintained a diplomatic silence on that point. Anyway, Annie was too excited to pay her Dad too much attention._

_I'm glad you're enjoying Weed (what a name!), and your car is still miraculously running._

_I think I'm going to go hiking this weekend, just for a change. The weather's been so nice. _

_Until next time,_

_-L_

x

With that, Lisbon addressed her letter with a satisfied smile. She'd already decided that Mount Shasta seemed like a likely place for Jane to stop on his travels. It was so much easier to keep track of him when he drove in a straight line.

xxx

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Alright, here we go. Please, no one shoot me for this one. I have my reasons for this. I do.

Chapter 13

xxx

Over the next few weeks, the letters between Lisbon and Jane flowed fairly frequently as he made his way south. Lisbon tried very hard not to focus on the fact that he was traveling towards Sacramento again. Unless he veered off course he couldn`t miss it.

But she didn`t want to think about that.

Instead she focussed on her letters, both sent and received.

x

_Mount Shasta, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Congratulations on acting as an accessory to scaring the life out of a fifteen year old. You must feel very proud. Oddly enough, when I congratulated Annie on her date, she wasn`t impressed with me. Apparently I am both an annoying know-it-all and an idiot. I would have thought those two were mutually exclusive, but I digress._

_It's nice to hear you talk about your family. You sound happy. I'm glad._

_I saw an elephant yesterday. No, not at the state fair. At a zoo, just for a change. It cost an exorbitant amount to gain entrance, but I enjoyed myself in the end. So there is that. The visit passed the time._

_Unfortunately, sometimes I don't quite know what to do with myself or my time._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon could give him a few suggestions for that last problem, but she didn't. She couldn't. So she simply wrote back.

As she always did.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Wasn't half the point of this trip or yours to find out what to do with yourself? Give it time. _

_I'm sorry. I know that advice is trite. But I don't know what to say. I don't know what you want me to say._

_Or, if you're getting frustrated, maybe try meditation or something._

_Did you look at the monkeys at the zoo? You should have if you didn't. I think you'd find kindred spirits there. Hey! Maybe they'd provide you with some answers..._

_Did I mention that I'm going to Tommy's for Christmas? It's just going to be the three of us, me, Tommy and Annie. But I think it'll be good. Really good. Tommy won't tell me what to bring though. Keeps saying he has everything under control. And he probably does. It's not like I'm a gourmet cook anyway, but I still want to contribute, you know? Maybe I'll bring a dessert or something. You can never have too much dessert at Christmas. _

_So I won't be in Sacramento over Christmas. Apparently the Lisbon family's planning for the holidays early this year. Not that early though, not even two months to go. I'll have to figure out Christmas presents..._

_I don't suppose Annie's mentioned something she absolutely has to have this year in her texts?_

_-Lisbon_

x

_Redding, California_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Don't ask me what you should tell me. You've always told me exactly what you thought of me. I seem to recall any number of insults hurled in my direction over the years. Don't change now. I don't want you to say anything, except what you think. I'm not writing to you so you can tell me what you think I want to hear. That's not the point of the letters. I want to hear from you._

_They don't need to be about my problems either. I just want to hear something._

_I want to read what you think about things. Your favourite books, Rigsby and Cho's latest escapade, the romantic drama (or lack thereof) of the little Lisbon. That's what I want._

_That's what I want you to write._

_Have a wonderful Christmas with your family, Lisbon. You deserve it._

_I think Annie'd be far more likely to tell you what she wants for Christmas than me. You're cool Aunt Teresa after all. You'll figure something out. I know you will._

_-Jane_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I bought Annie the watch she was coveting in the shop window on our last shopping trip. And I bought Tommy a new sweater and a box of saltwater taffy. He always loved that stuff._

_Now I just have to figure out my other brothers and their families. And my other nieces and nephews. The lead up to the holidays is kind of exhausting, in a good kind of a way._

_And if you want stories, well, I've somehow gotten talked into helping to tend our condo's communal garden. It was absolutely ridiculous. The head of the condo association cornered me, and I wasn't prepared. And well, let me start from the beginning._

_I'd just gotten back from a case..._

x

The letters continued to flow, as Jane inched southward, closer and closer to Sacramento.

Lisbon actually found herself getting almost anxious. Jane hadn't mentioned anything about it (not that he would). Of course, neither had she.

He'd probably veer east at the last second missing the city altogether, or something equally idiotic.

She threw herself into work to distract herself. Well, work and making sure that the condo garden was 100% weed free. She knew that the battleaxe of a woman who was in charge of the building was pleased with her work, which only served to irritate Lisbon further.

Then, to her absolute relief, she got called away for a murder out of town. Far out of town.

She'd obsess about Jane's extraordinarily slow travelling speed when she got back.

xxx

A few days later, Lisbon walked to her front door, ready to just collapse on her couch, or maybe her bed. Everything else could wait until the morning. It'd been a ridiculously long drive back to Sacramento, but at least they'd solved their case. She'd dropped Rigsby at his place before coming home, and she felt dead on her feet.

To add insult to injury, there hadn't even been a letter in her mailbox to distract her. Lisbon tried not to be disappointed by that fact. She failed.

Resigned, she trudged towards her door. That was when she saw it.

There was a letter sitting on the floor, one corner poking out into the hall, the rest presumably in her apartment. It had no stamp, no postmark, no address, just her name scrawled across the front. Someone had obviously slipped it partway under her door. She knew exactly who that someone was. She'd been following his movements for months now.

And she knew his handwriting.

With a grin, Lisbon opened her door quickly, practically bouncing in.

Only to find that the inside of her condo quite obviously hadn't been disturbed since she'd left it three days earlier. She could still see the single coffee cup sitting on her counter where she'd left it. All alone.

Lisbon told herself it was what she'd been expecting. She told herself it only made sense.

She told herself that she hadn't expected him to have broken into her condo and made himself at home while he waited for her.

She told herself she hadn't expected to see him waiting on her couch with a fresh pot of tea.

She didn't even come close to convincing herself.

She almost didn't open the letter in her anger - in many ways anger was easier to deal with than the other things flooding her brain.

What was _wrong_ with him? He'd come to _her_ town, even to _her_ apartment. And he hadn't stopped. He had nothing to do with his time. He'd said as much himself more than once. No appointments, no claims on him of any kind. He was driving around at random. He'd been in Sacramento, but for some reason couldn't spare a day or two to stop and say hello? Maybe get a cup of coffee? Hell, she'd have paid for it.

But apparently not.

Apparently _someone_ was too busy. Had to keep up his hectic schedule of driving aimlessly around California, brooding and looking at ridiculous tourist attractions and, and, and _staring at trees_.

_What the hell?_

Jerk.

Idiot.

Moron.

Oaf.

Fathead.

Pea-brained cretin.

Spineless cad.

Selfish bastard.

Self, selfish, selfish.

And stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Lisbon paced back and forth between her living room and kitchen, alternating between practically foaming at the mouth and trying to convince herself that she shouldn't be mad, that she _wasn't_ mad.

That everything was fine. (Except that it really wasn't.)

In the end she gave in and opened the envelope. Her curiosity got the better of her.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_I'm sorry. I know you're probably angry with me. I don't blame you._

_I don't have a very good explanation for it. Not one that will satisfy you, I'd imagine. I just suddenly knew that I couldn't see you. It would make everything more difficult, infinitely more difficult._

_Don't blame your case, or the fact that you were out of town. I knew that you were when I dropped this letter off (heard about it on the radio, as it happens). But, if you hadn't been away on a case, I'd have dropped my note off at your place while you were at the office, or maybe just mailed it to you like all the others. The case just made things easier, gave me more of an excuse (albeit not a very good one, I know)._

_It's nothing you did. I'm not angry with you, or punishing you, or anything else. Trust me when I say that this has nothing to do with anything but the problems in my own confused, messed up brain. Your letters seem to stabilize things, but seeing you... I don't know. I just don't know, and that's the problem. (There are too many things that I don't know.) Suddenly, I don't think this north-south thing is working for me anymore. Maybe I'll try heading east for a change._

_But I couldn't just leave the city without a word. That seemed cruel. (As opposed to what I did do, which is mainly selfish, or maybe self-preservation.)._

_Anyway..._

_Your building looks the same as ever, except that some of the trees are a little taller and I see that the sickly looking rosebush in the front has finally succumbed to its inevitable fate. The hydrangea that's replaced it looks much hardier. I have high hopes for it._

_I know, I know, the lightness isn't helping. I really am sorry._

_Hate me for this if you like. You certainly have the right to. You have the right to quite a bit more, actually. So very much more. I've never been particularly strong, particularly brave (that was always your job). I'm always so full of human frailty._

_I'm so sorry._

_I wish I could have seen you._

_-Jane _

x

Lisbon stared at the letter in her hands, a million feelings swirling around her brain. She couldn't make head nor tail of them really; there were just too many.

Anger and irritation started to take precedence, mixed in with a healthy dollop of hurt.

She felt the urge to crumple Jane's letter in a ball and fling it across the room. The only thing that stopped her was a small voice in the back of her brain, straining to be heard, pointing out that she'd always known Jane was really messed up. That he had about a decade of issues to go through. That she should have expected this. Maybe the fact that he was admitting something was wrong was a good sign.

It wasn't much, but it stopped her from shredding the note.

It didn't stop her from wanting to scream at him.

Since that wasn't an option, Lisbon went with the next thing, grabbing a pen and piece of paper she began to write furiously.

x

_Jane,_

_Maybe I'd have wanted your cockamamie explanation, did you ever think of that before you decided not to give it? Maybe it would have satisfied me. You don't know me as well as you think you do. And even if you're right, don't you think I deserve to hear it?_

_Instead I got a few sentences about how this is hard for you. You don't think I *know* this is hard for you? I have been nothing but supportive for months. Months, Jane. God. I wasn't expecting you to show up and take me out for dinner or something, all cheerful and full of stories about your travels. But would a cup of coffee have killed you?_

_Would it? You were just complaining about having nothing to do with yourself, you idiot._

_I think I would have preferred if you had just mailed the damn letter. At least then I could have pretended that you decided to drive around the city or something, instead of showing up on the other side of my damn door and deciding it wasn't worth waiting a couple of days for me to come back._

_You are a selfish bastard._

_But I know that. I've always known that. And here's a secret, most of the time, I don't really mind all that much. Oh wait, you already knew that too. I bet you figured that out about a week after I met you. You arrogant ass. You knew exactly what type of boss I'd be. How long before you started manipulating me? Five minutes, maybe ten? Or was it less? Did you have some big grand plan? I hope I spoiled it._

_Or, I don't know. I don't know if I meant that. But I'm not exactly sorry. I want to yell at you. And you did say that you wanted me to tell you things..._

_Damn, damn, damn, damn._

_I know you're trying to figure stuff out, and I hope to god you are. I really do. I don't want to send you off into a tailspin (which apparently the sight of my face would have done. Awesome). Maybe this was a good decision for you. I don't know. It seems like neither of us knows anything._

_But this just, it... it... I'm angry with you for this. And I wanted you to know that._

_Sometimes I just get so sick of being the one who always has to be sensible. I wish that rosebush was still in front of my building, and that you'd cut your hand on it. And then bled all over your stupid suit. And the stain refused to come out._

_Maybe I don't know what I want._

_I'll write to you again in a few days. Not now. Not just now._

_-Lisbon_

x

Very quickly, Lisbon addressed the letter (after a quick glance at her map to find a likely candidate city to send it to), jumped from her couch and ran downstairs to mail it instead of leaving it on her coffee table to drop into a mailbox in the morning. By the morning she'd have talked herself down, or maybe just become resigned to things and she wouldn't send it. For some reason she wanted to send him this one. It felt important.

When she got back from her all-important trip to the post office, she just ran out of steam, crawling into her bed in exhaustion.

She'd figure it out tomorrow. She always did.

xxx

She didn't figure it out the next day. Or even the day after that. She pretty much ignored it. That was easier.

Then, in three days, she received a letter from Jane from Auburn, just east of Sacramento. It was exactly the sort of letter she was used to getting from her consultant, full of his travels, telling her about the beautiful weather, another odd job he'd managed to find (this one helping to open a brand new superstore, of all things. Lisbon wasn't entirely sure how he'd stumbled into it).

Jane didn't reference her letter in his reply (even though she'd sent it to Folsom, which, while not on a directly line between Sacramento and Auburn, certainly wasn't out of the way either). Lisbon decided to assume he'd never gotten it. It was certainly possible. She thought about re-writing it. Or at least re-writing some of the main ideas. She'd never be able to remember the exact words. But she didn't.

What was the point?

Jane was Jane. She'd always known that.

(Besides, part of her wondered if his letter had been just a little _too_ cheerful.)

Maybe it was better to put it to the side for now. She still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to say to him. She wasn't even sure if she was angry anymore.

Everything had somehow settled back down. Things were calm, she was mostly content. Sometimes she had a sudden flash of missing him. Mostly she just hoped he was okay.

And she still wrote him letters. He didn't always get them exactly in order, or he replied after she'd sent the next one. But at least the correspondence was something semi-solid.

That helped a little.

xxx

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm sending you your Christmas present to Stockton. Christmas is in a month, but I'm telling you now so that you have enough advanced warning that you can plan your travels accordingly. I know you're heading east, but I figure that won't take all month, and you're due to go south next. If you want it, you know where to find it. It's up to you. Don't you dare thank me._

_In other news, I very nearly got run over with a shopping cart yesterday. (I was pushing the cart, not someone nearly crashed into me with a cart. I realized after I wrote that sentence that it might be confusing.) Luckily, I have quick reflexes. Here's what happened. I was at the grocery store..._

_[...]_

x

Lisbon sealed the envelope slowly. Actually, Sacramento would have made more sense as a place to send Jane's Christmas present, but she couldn't send it there. She just couldn't. For one, she didn't like the idea of him in Sacramento alone (she supposed he could always drop in on Cho, but she also knew he wouldn't). For another, they hadn't had particularly good luck with letters in Sacramento lately. That wound was still raw.

Stockton was the next best choice.

If Jane didn't like it, he didn't have to pick up her gift. That was all there was to it.

In the meantime, she'd just wait for his reply.

x

_Colfax, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I've found something else to occupy my time with for a few days. Impromptu lessons in public speaking of all things. I'm helping out an old friend for a few days. I'm almost looking forward to it._

_Now let me tell you about a man I met yesterday. He's ninety-five and he's lived in Colfax almost his entire adult life (except for the time he was oversees fighting in WWII). In his opinion it's the best place in the world. I wish I had his conviction. I'll tell you all about it. _

_[,,,]_

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Just in case you didn't get my last letter (you didn't mention it in your last one - I think we're out of sync again), I'm telling you again that I'm sending your Christmas present to Stockton. And don't thank me for it in advance, that'll just be weird._

_Seriously, I don't want to hear about it._

_I was cleaning the garden again yesterday. I'm seriously getting a bit sick of the approving looks the aggravating woman in charge gives me. I'd quit, but Mrs. Foster who lives next door and is lovely, really appreciates it too. And I can't bear to disappoint her. I don't know if you've met her. She's a retired teacher, and really lovely._

_Christmas is coming. I'm almost done my shopping, which is good, since most of it is being mailed. I still have to get something for Van Pelt though. Rigsby and Cho are easier to shop for, somehow. I suppose I could always fall back on candles or hand lotion, the old staples. Not very imaginative though. What do you think?_

_[...]_

x

_Grass Valley, California,_

_Lisbon dear,_

_I got your letter. Of course I'll go and pick up your Christmas present. Of course I want it. You didn't have to get me one though. I'm going to dare your displeasure and thank you. I want you to know that I appreciate it Teresa, along with everything else you've done for me. Stockton sounds like just about the perfect place to be in a month._

_I saw you on television the other day, a press conference, obviously. It was that double homicide in Monterey. In spite of the subject matter, it was good to hear your voice. Also, you got your hair cut. I like it. The bangs suit you. You looked lovely._

_I'm also glad you survived your near hit and run at the grocery store. Did you try to arrest the culprit? Tell me you at least flashed your badge._

_[...]_

x

Over the next month, letters flew between Agent and ex-consultant. Then, almost before Lisbon realized it, it was Christmas eve eve, and she was on her way to Tommy's for a week armed with presents and homemade cookies.

After an almost too-long drive, she pulled up in front of Tommy's. He'd obviously been waiting for her, because he was walking down the path to meet her by the time she was out of the car.

He shook his head when he saw the cookie tin in her hands. "I told you that you didn't have to bring anything Reese."

"And you knew that I would," she said handing him the cookies. "They're peanut butter."

Tommy glanced down at the tin. "Mom's recipe?" he asked softly.

Lisbon nodded. "Yeah."

"Thanks Reese," he said softly, setting the cookies down and pulling her into a hug.

Lisbon hugged him tightly back. "It's good to see you Tommy."

"You too," he agreed, picking up her bag and ignoring her sound of protest.

That was when Annie came bounding out the door. "Aunt Reese!" she cried, excited. "You're here!"

"I am!" Lisbon agreed with a laugh, accepting a hug from her niece. "How're you?"

"Good," Annie told her. "How was the trip?"

"Good," Lisbon told her with a laugh. "And dare I ask, how's Dylan?"

Annie blushed slightly before laughing awkwardly. "He's good too. We're going out tomorrow. You might meet him."

"Oh?" Lisbon hummed.

Tommy gestured towards the front door. "Can we please take girl talk inside?" he asked. "Maybe let Reese get unpacked a little? I promise you two will have plenty of time to talk to each other about... girl things later. I'll even make myself scarce if you want."

Lisbon obliged, grinning up at him. "You're welcome to join in on girl talk too, Tom," she told him. "We could exchange hair-styling tips. What do you use, moose or gel? It's going to have to be beauty-related because I'm pretty sure you'd be terrible at gossiping about boys..."

"Oh, get inside," her brother laughed.

Lisbon smiled. It was really good to see them both. This was exactly what she'd needed.

xxx

The next day and a half passed more quickly than Lisbon would have thought possible. She spent Christmas Eve alternating between chatting with Annie, helping her brother with dinner preparations (and trying not to argue with him when he tried to shoe her out and get her to relax), watching hockey on television, taking a nap, and meeting Dylan when he picked Annie up. The high school student looked a little nervous when Annie introduced him (Lisbon imagined Tommy's stories about Annie's favourite aunt the CBI agent were at the forefront of his mind), but he seemed a perfectly nice boy. Not that she'd thought otherwise, but it was nice to finally put a face to a name.

Christmas morning was a fairly low-key affair. The three Lisbons went to church. None of them really attended mass regularly, but it was Christmas and some things were tradition, particularly when family was around.

When they got back, it was present time. Annie squealed over her watch, and threw her arms around her aunt. Tommy thanked his sister for the sweater and the candy and grinned over his daughter's gift of a massive box of sweets from a local chocolate shop. He beamed when his daughter opened the new mp3 player under the tree. Lisbon got a joint gift from the two of them of a painting by a local artist, which she loved on sight. Then there was the multitude of presents from the other Lisbon brothers, all sent to Tommy's.

Tommy stood up to make brunch for everyone. Lisbon moved to help him, but he waved her off. She'd have ignored him, but he shook his head. "You've got one more present," he told her with a smirk.

Lisbon frowned and looked at Annie for clarification.

Annie was already on her way to her room.

Lisbon glanced back at Tommy, her eyes questioning.

"Don't look at me," he said holding his hands up. "Talk to Annie about it." With that he went into the kitchen.

Annie returned a few minutes later with two boxes, one large, one small.

Lisbon's heart started to thud.

Annie set the little one on the couch, handing her aunt the bigger one.

"You've got one too?" Lisbon asked, swallowing to combat a suddenly dry throat, the address on the top confirming her suspicions.

"Yup," Annie said. "My price for passing your gift along," she told her aunt.

"Why don't you open yours first?" Lisbon asked softly, trying to steady herself.

Annie narrowed her eyes, before shrugging and doing as she asked. She pulled up the lid. "The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes?" she read in confusion.

Lisbon let out a whoosh of laughter. "It's a good book," she promised her niece. "You'll like it."

"If you say so," Annie muttered. Then she looked back at Lisbon tentatively. "Do you want me to leave while you open yours?"

Lisbon shook her head quickly. She really didn't want to be left alone all of a sudden. "Of course not." Slowly she opened the flaps of the box. Smiling briefly when she noticed the letter tucked inside. Then her breath caught in her throat when she saw the contents of the box.

Annie wasn't the only one getting a book from Patrick Jane that Christmas. Except that Lisbon hadn't just gotten _one_ book.

The box was full. She flipped through the titles. It looked like he'd gotten her the rest of the Lord Peter Wimsey books, but that wasn't all. She was now the proud owner of what she was pretty sure was the complete works of P.G. Wodehouse. Plus there was Dickens and Anne of Green Gables and Jane Eyre. There were more modern titles as well. Lisbon noticed a series of mystery novels she'd noticed on her last trip into a bookstore. She'd almost bought the first one then; now she didn't have to. Jane had certainly been eclectic in his choices. Lisbon caught everything from fantasy to romance as she sorted through the last few titles. And down at the bottom she even found a single Harlequin romance novel.

Lisbon laughed, tears pricking in her eyes. She blinked them back.

"Looks like we've both got some reading to do," Annie said dryly, glancing into Lisbon's box.

"Guess so," her aunt agreed.

"Hey!" Annie said, pointing. "What's that?"

Lisbon frowned, noticing the box in the bottom corner for the first time. She pulled it out, flipping open the lid in a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

Then she gasped.

It was a brooch. She had no idea where he'd gotten it, but it was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. It looked vaguely Celtic in design, though not quite. Lisbon figured it was a mixture of styles. It was silver, strands bending every which way in a geometrical pattern. The thing was obviously well-made, but not so ostentatious that she couldn't wear it to work. Impulsively she pinned it on her shirt, admiring how it looked. She loved it. She absolutely loved it.

"Oh pretty!" Annie commented. "Mr. Jane has good taste."

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed absently, shocked when her voice came dangerously close to breaking. She stood abruptly. "I should move these out of the way," she said picking up the box.

"Okay," Annie agreed. "You need help?"

Lisbon shook her head.

"I'll go help Dad then," Annie replied.

Lisbon nodded. "Call me if you need anything."

Clutching the box against her chest, Lisbon fled to the relative safety of her brother's spare room/office.

Dropping the box next to the futon she was sleeping on, she rubbed a hand over her face. She really should have expected this. She really should have. She'd told Jane she was buying her a gift. Why was it such a shock that he'd reciprocated? And why was she so surprised that the gift he had sent was practically perfect. He was _Jane_, the next best thing to a mind reader. And she'd been writing him letters for the better part of a year.

Speaking of letters... Lisbon plucked the letter from the top of the box and opened it.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_Surprise dear! I've plotted with Annie to get you your Christmas present. You'd better not be surprised that I sent you one. Of course I sent you one. I hope you like it. I sent you a box of fiction, since I'm always worried you'll backslide into those unimaginative books about leadership and management and corporate priorities and any number of other dull subjects. So enjoy your novels. I know you have another few days off. Spend part of them curled up with a book. Expand your horizons and all that._

_And have a lovely holiday. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be. I know Annie's excited. Enjoy it. Sleep in. Indulge. And I want to hear all about Dylan when you get back._

_Did you like the brooch? I hope you did. It reminded me of you._

_Anyway, this letter is going to be short, but I'll write again. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas, Teresa. I hope the upcoming year is a happy one._

_Yours, _

_Patrick_

x

Lisbon was still fingering the corner of the paper, unsure what she felt, when she heard the knock on the door.

"Aunt Reese?" Annie called.

"Come in," Lisbon said, folding the letter back up again. She sent her niece a smile. "Time for pancakes?" she asked.

Annie smiled. "Almost. I got a text from Jane. He says Merry Christmas, he liked his present, and he'll write you a letter all about it for when you get back."

Lisbon's smile became a little forced. "Okay."

Annie stepped forward tentatively. "Are you okay, Aunt Reese?" she asked.

Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Annie shrugged. "I dunno... I just thought..."

Lisbon sighed. "I'm fine," she promised. "Really."

"Okay," Annie agreed.

Judging by her niece's face, Lisbon realized that she wasn't being very convincing. "I'm having a really good Christmas with you and your Dad, Annie."

Annie smiled. "Good. Because I'm really glad you came for the week."

Lisbon smiled, pulling her niece into a hug. "Me too," she whispered, squeezing a little. "Me too." Then she dropped an arm around her niece's shoulders and turned her back towards the kitchen. "Now! How about we go make sure your Dad doesn't burn the pancakes?"

Annie laughed. "He's gotten a lot better about that," she assured her aunt.

Lisbon laughed with her, unbelievably glad that she had family around to spend the holiday with. And to think, when Tommy had invited her she'd considered not coming. That'd been plain foolish. Spending Christmas alone would have been nothing but depressing., unlike someone else she knew. She hoped he'd found some friends, somewhere.

Shaking Jane out of her mind, Lisbon walked into the kitchen with her niece. Smelling freshly made coffee, bacon and pancakes, Lisbon smiled genuinely. Now this was pretty near perfect.

She grabbed plates from the cupboard, and let her brother slide a pancake onto one, teasing him about the charred edges.

As she listened to him defend himself self-righteously, her smile widened. This was what Christmas was all about.

xxx

The last three days at Tommy's went by as quickly as the first three. Lisbon spent them gossiping with Annie and talking to her brother. There was a girls only shopping trip followed by the promised all-inclusive trip to the shooting range. Then the three of them went hiking. And Lisbon and Tommy yelled at the hockey game on TV while Dylan took Annie to a dance.

In between all that, Lisbon could be found curled up at her brother's with one of Jane's books. She hadn't answered his letter yet. She'd do that when she got home, but she had to admit, his present had been useful for filling the odd hour at her brother's.

Curled up on the couch with one of her many new mystery novels, Lisbon flipped a page with a smile. It'd really been an almost perfect holiday.

A shame really, that she was leaving the next morning.

xxx

TBC

Oh look, it's the end of the chapter and there's still a lot of text. Guess what that means?

Yup, deleted scene #2. (Because my brain likes to write things that really don't fit into the narrative I'm actually writing.) The italics are text messages.

xxx

Annie had just gotten home from school and was rummaging in the fridge looking for a snack. She saw the leftovers that were meant to be dinner. Her Dad had told her he'd be home lateish, and that he'd grab something on his way back. So the leftovers were all hers. She'd heat them up later. In the meantime she grabbed an apple.

That was when she heard her phone buzz with a text.

She grinned when she saw who it was from.

_I need your address._

Annie quickly typed in a reply. _What? Why? You planning a visit?_

Jane's answer came almost immediately. _Not exactly._

She frowned. _Then why?_

Thirty seconds later her phone chirped again. _You shouldn't ask questions like that so close to Christmas. Santa might not like it._

That made Annie grin again. _You sending me a present?_ She teased. Then she walked over to the couch with her snack, waiting for his reply.

_Did I say that?_

She chuckled, settling in for a round of text messages. She'd learned early on that Mr. Jane rarely answered a question directly. _Pretty much._

_Hey! Just for that, I'm not sending you anything._

Annie smirked. If he thought that was leverage, he was a moron. She was holding the trump card this time, and she knew it. Even if he'd never admit it. _Plus, Aunt Reese is going to be here for Christmas._

_Is she?_

Annie shook her head in exasperation. _Don't be dumb. I'm sure she told you she was coming._

_She might have mentioned it, now that I think about it._

_I told you, don't be dumb._

_I wasn't._

_You were. And yes. I'll give her your present._

_Thank you._

Annie waited a minute before sending her next text. She was doing him a favour after all. _If you send me one too._

_Naturally._

_I knew it._

_You think you're so smart._

_I am. I told you, you're the one being dumb._

_Yes, you've mentioned that several times._

Annie tapped her hand on the screen of her phone, wondering how far she should push. She remembered Aunt Reese's evasions the last time she'd brought up Jane and whether she'd seen him. She decided to go for it. _You both are. Come for Christmas dinner._

It was a few minutes before Jane replied.

_I can't. I'm sorry._

His answer made Annie scowl. She didn't care if it was immature. He was being stupid.. _Fine._

_I really am._

_Sure._

_Thank you though._

She ignored the peace offering. _Whatever._

_Good night, Annie._

_Good night Mr. Jane._

A second later Annie had her phone in her hand again. She was going to text Dylan. He was way less stupid over the phone, even if he was a boy.

xxx

And, now it's time for Deleted Scene #3. 'Tis short.

xxx

Annie watched her aunt carry her box of books into the spare room and shut the door.

Her father appeared at her elbow. "Is she okay?" he asked.

Annie nodded. "She's fine," she assured her father. "I think she just wants to read her letter."

"Annabeth," her Dad said, using her full in warning. "Is there something I should know? Do I need to, I don't know, find this Jane guy and..."

"And what, Dad?" Annie challenged. "Kick the crap out of him, defending Aunt Reese's honour, or something equally stupid? She'd kick your ass herself if you did."

Tommy Lisbon frowned. "Yeah, well, I don't like it."

Annie smirked suddenly. "Remember how you sometimes tell her to butt out of your life..."

She watched her Dad consider that. After a minute he laughed. "Okay, fine. But I still don't like it."

He turned to check on his pancakes. Annie took advantage of his distraction to dig up her phone. She started texting furiously.

_Merry Christmas. You're an idiot._

A few seconds later a reply appeared.

_Merry Christmas to you too. Does this mean you don't like Holmes?_

Annie sighed. Idiot. _My book is fine. Thank you. Aunt Reese says I'll like it._

_You will._

_Speaking of Aunt Reese..._ Jane's reply came almost immediately.

_Yes?_

Annie paused, wondering how much she should say. In the end she went with her gut. _She seemed to like her books. And her brooch. She really liked that._

_Good. I'm glad._

_She seemed kind of upset though._ Annie bit her lip. This time the answer took longer.

_I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that._

This time the reply was easy. _I know. But that's why you're an idiot._

_I know._

_Good, I guess. She's reading your letter now._

_Tell her there'll be another one waiting for her when she gets back to Sacramento. And tell her I loved my present._

A second later another text from Jane appeared on the screen. _And tell her Merry Christmas._

Annie scowled, suddenly unbelievably irritated at the man on the other end of the phone. _Tell her yourself,_ she texted back angrily_._ With that she snapped her phone shut.

She glanced towards the closed spare room door and sighed. "I'll go tell Aunt Reese the pancakes are almost ready," she told her father as she stood.

Just stupid, the pair of them.

xxx

Alright, now I'm really done.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This story is finally starting to wind down. Which is good for me, because I'm thinking about another one. And also, because it's been a long time coming. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't worry, there's at least two (probably more like three-four) to go.

Chapter 14

xxx

The next evening, Lisbon was curled up on her couch, eating takeout with one hand, reading Jane's letter with the other.

She'd had a lovely week off, but she was looking forward to finding her routine again. At least she was trying to. She hoped Jane's letter would help with that process.

x

_Modesto, California,_

_Dear Teresa,_

_I hope my letter finds you home, safe and sound, (and if possible relaxed) after a wonderful Christmas. I'm sure that the subset of the Lisbon family had a wonderful time together. I can just picture the three of you crowded around a tree, opening presents. Closely followed by you and your brother squabbling over who was in charge of making which part of the dinner. While Annie tried very hard not to laugh. I doubt she succeeded. I hope you punished her by making her peel potatoes. _

_You'll be pleased to know, Teresa, that even yours truly wasn't alone for Christmas. Your choice of Stockton as a city to mail my present to was rather inspired dear, due to its proximity to Modesto. And who do you think was in Modesto this Christmas, dear? Pete and Sam. So I had people to have Christmas dinner with. I provided the pumpkin pie. Store-bought of course, but still good. I doubt my holiday meal was as enjoyable as yours though. I was subject to several disapproving looks, whereas, chez Lisbon I'm sure you would have been the one giving them if any were needed. Well, you or Annie. She seems quite judgemental of late. Probably a teenager thing._

_But I've gotten ahead of myself in my Christmas tale. Because before dinner, in my hotel room that morning there was something under my tree. At least, that's where it would have been if I had a tree. It was under my metaphorical tree, because you sent me a present. Before I sent you yours I was vaguely concerned that you'd be scolding me in your next letter for spending too much money on you, or spoiling you, or some such nonsense. Then I picked up your box from the Stockton post office._

_The elderly woman who brought it out from the back teased me about it. She seemed to think I must have been rather a good boy this year. You and I know different though, don't we?_

_It's like you decided to compensate for the fact that you knew no one else would send me presents by buying them all yourself. You didn't have to do that Teresa. You really didn't. But thank you. I'm particularly impressed that you took the time to wrap all of the individual gifts inside the one big box. They made rather a cheerful pile in the corner of my motel room. When I put them next to the television with the Christmas tree channel on, it seemed almost festive. Even if, as I said, you went a little overboard. (I'd scold, but I don't think I'm in any position to do so, given the size of my own box to you.)_

_You'll deny it anyway of course, so now there's nothing left for me to do but thank you. The guidebook of 1001 things to see in California is a perfect blend of utility and humour. I admit, I'm a bit intrigued by some of the entries. I see that you also sent me a journal, for writing down my thoughts and trying to sort through them (your words written on the first page). It's a thoughtful gift, Teresa. I'll certainly give it a try, though I can't guarantee success. The third package contained a fleece blanket, in case my car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and it's a cold night. As an added side benefit, I do find it makes the hotel rooms along the way a little bit more cheerful. So thank you. It looks cozy._

_Tucked under the blanket, as you know, was a box of tea. My favourite brand. I thought you were spoiling me then, Teresa, until I found the chocolates underneath and knew for sure. I suppose you thought that everyone deserved a bit of a treat on Christmas morning? I'd point out that I'm not a child, but you'd simply disagree (and you might be right). So instead I've decided to just enjoy my chocolate._

_Speaking of making Christmas festive, it turned out that the lack of decoration in my motel room wasn't a problem. You'd foreseen the difficulty, and found possibly the gaudiest Santa figurine that I've ever seen in my life. Maybe I should be grateful that it didn't sing and dance. I put it next to the television, and now it's grinning at me. Ridiculous thing. A completely and utterly ridiculous gift, Teresa. I'm sure you're curled up in Sacramento with your normal-looking decorations, laughing at me. You and the foolish fellow now staring at me from across the room with his absurdly ruddy cheeks. I suppose he does add something to the day. I don't know what though... I've been calling him Joe, out of sheer contrariness._

_Next in your care package (yes, I'm onto you, Teresa – I can see your intention) was soup (for I assume, if I stop somewhere and can't find a restaurant), granola bars, bottled water, a candle, and a flashlight, all of which I promise to store in my car in case I get stranded and need supplies for a day._

_Tucked in the bottom, there were still a couple of boxes. I picked up the smaller one first. "Songs of the seashore?" You dare to send me a relaxation CD? After I promised so faithfully not to send you a sleep schedule, dear? You really sent me the sound of the crashing waves? In an endearing combination of genuine hope that the ridiculous tape might help me sleep mixed with a healthy dose of mockery. Well played._

_Underneath it was the e-reader. At first I resented the new technology. Give me an old-fashioned book any day! Then practicality crept up on me, and I reflected on how difficult it's been driving a significant number of books around California. One or two is easy, any more... So I turned the thing on warily, only to find that you'd already loaded a bunch of the classics on it. Plus a few more modern mysteries. It seems we had similar, literary-related thoughts this Christmas._

_Thank you for all of it, Teresa. And don't bother telling me that I don't have to thank you, because it was for Christmas. I'll just thank you again, for all of it. Even that ridiculous Santa Clause. (I hope you won't be hurt if I use "Songs of the Seashore" as a coaster for my tea.)_

_Annie mentioned that you liked your gift. I hope so. I thought you might like something to occupy your brain while on vacation. It couldn't have been easy for you to try to relax. Luckily, I'm sure there was hockey on. Nice physical sport, that. It probably provided some distraction._

_I hope going back to work isn't too big a shock after your lazy week. Have a happy New Year, Teresa._

_Love Jane_

_P.S. I thought I'd stick around here for another day (see Pete and Sam again maybe), before heading towards Turlock._

x

Lisbon was smiling by the end of Jane's letter. She glanced to her left where her massive box of books was sitting in front of her bookshelf, waiting to be unpacked. She'd do it another day; it was fine where it was for now. She was glad that Jane had found some friends to have Christmas dinner with. She had been worried that he'd be alone. And no one should be alone during the holidays.

She glanced down at her new brooch, where it was still pinned to her lapel, before reaching for her notepaper.

So Jane was going to be in Turlock, was he? Excellent. She hadn't been looking forward to making a wild stab in the dark as to where he'd be.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Merry Christmas to you too! I'm glad to hear that you had a good day with Pete and Sam, particularly since it apparently means that there's still someone around to glare at you and scold when I'm not there. I'm sure it was all deserved._

_Unfortunately I didn't think to put Annie on potato-peeling duty. Tommy did get her to help slice carrots though._

_You're welcome for your presents. I'm glad you enjoyed them, but I will not be reprimanded for going overboard. Not from the king of exaggerated gestures. You're not exactly known for your subtlety, Patrick. Who was it that lured a pony into my office again... Oh, wait a minute. Yeah, that was YOU._

_I admit, I had my doubts about the e-reader, but honestly, it's only practical while you're gallivanting around the entire state. You can hardly cart boxes and boxes of books around. A personal library needs a more permanent home. It just does._

_And I thought that Santa was charming. It certainly made *me* laugh, and clearly that's the important thing._

_As for Songs of the Seashore, don't knock it before you try it. Apparently Van Pelt's cousin Yolanda (you know, the psychic) swears by it. Something about clearing the mind._

_Speaking of Van Pelt, I heard from her on Boxing Day. She called to wish me happy holidays, and (I'm pretty sure) to assure me that everything was fine back at the office. She'd had a good Christmas. From the sounds of it, Rigsby did too, if the pictures he e-mailed around of Connor in his Christmas sweater are anything to go by. (Apparently I spoiled Connor with Christmas presents too, but I don't care. He's sweet. Not that I admit to spoiling you.)_

_Tommy and Annie were doing well. Annie and I went shopping again; Tommy declined to accompany us. But we did go out on a family outing to the shooting range. Generally it was a week of too much food, a lot of family, and a fair bit of lounging around my brother's house with a book, since I had so many there. Thank you for that. That box was very, very sweet. Even if I am surprised that you're encouraging me with the Harlequin romance novel._

_And I just love my brooch, as I'm sure you knew I would. Thank you very much Patrick._

_Oh, and I did meet Dylan. He seems to be a rather average teenager. Or, maybe better than average; he seems like a nice boy. He was definitely nervous to meet me, which made me laugh a little on the inside, since the boy is nearly a foot taller than I am. He did a reasonable job hiding his nervousness though. He does seem to genuinely like Annie, which is what matters._

_Anyway, I should go to bed. Have a happy new year back!_

_Love Teresa_

x

With that, Lisbon did go to bed, grabbing a book from her box to take with her.

The next few days were a whirl of trying to get back into her usual routine. She familiarized herself with the details of the case the team had solved in her absence under Cho's capable direction. She got caught up on all of her paperwork, and her e-mail. And she heard all about everyone else's holiday plans.

Before she knew it, it was New Year's Eve.

Lisbon hadn't felt the need to make a big deal out of New Year's in, well, in years. She usually tried to do a little something. This year, she spent the evening with some women she played softball with on the weekends (when she wasn't away on a case). Her friend Diane had decided to have a low-key party at her house, nothing fancy. Just drinks, some snacks, and watching the ball drop on television, and a large group of friends (more than Lisbon had been expecting to be honest) Still, it definitely made for a good party.

After exchanging kisses on the cheek with half the people in the house, a glass of champagne, and several rounds of _Happy New Year!, _Lisbon excused herself quietly from the festivities. She was glad she'd gone, to be sure, but she hadn't really wanted to stay longer. Too much fuss, too much talk of resolutions, and what people wanted the New Year to bring. She hadn't been in the mood for that sort of thing.

It had been good to spend some time with friends though.

She should do more of that. Maybe that should be her New Year's resolution.

She was starting to feel a bit restless, in a way. Work was good, or as good as it could be, given that she spent her days finding killers. Work was _stable_. Usually that was enough, but lately, she'd been feeling like something was missing.

She hadn't felt that way over Christmas, with Tommy and Annie. Or when Annie was visiting. And she hadn't felt like that at the New Year's party, not until the very end at least, when things had gotten very coupley.

Maybe it was time to try something new in her personal life. She could join a club, or volunteer, or something. She'd find the time somehow, someway. As long as the hours were flexible, it could work.

Maybe.

She sighed, wishing she had someone to talk to about all this.

Tapping her fingers on her coffee table, Lisbon bit her lip.

Why not? Maybe writing it down would make her feel better.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Happy New Year! It is officially January 1st. I haven't heard from you in a few days, although I suspect that has more to do with the fact that the post offices are closed for the holiday than anything else._

_I just got back from a New Year's party, actually. My friend Diane had a few people over to her house. Just a casual sort of a thing. I left not long after the ball dropped. Didn't feel the need to linger. I guess the New Year ending isn't such a big deal to me._

_Still, it shouldn't go by completely unremarked either. Should it?_

_I hope, wherever you are, that you had a good New Year's. (And I also hope that you get this letter at some point.)_

_Do you think you'll make any New Year's resolutions? Do you even make New Year's resolutions? I don't think I've ever asked you that. It now seems odd to me that we've never discussed it. But we haven't, have we?_

_You don't seem like the type to make New Year's resolutions for some reason. I guess, in my head, I lump New Year's resolutions in with things like believing in psychics, or religion, or whatever (although I'm not sure why I'm lumping those things together now that I think about it). And you don't do any of those things. It's all part and parcel of the things that you don't believe in. (Not that I'm suggesting you necessarily should, just that you probably don't...)_

_Maybe it isn't the worst thing in the world to make New Year's resolutions though. Even if almost nobody keeps them beyond a week. It's not such a bad thing to want to be better, is it? To want things to change? To want something more out of life? I think I'm going to make one. I'm not sure what it is, exactly. I think I just want more. I want something that isn't just work. I want to talk to Annie and Tommy more. I feel like we've been communicating better lately, or more frequently, and I like it. I want to do more stuff like meeting people for New Year's parties. I was thinking of maybe joining a club or volunteering. Or something. I just, I want a change, maybe find some balance. I feel like I need to shake things up, if that makes sense._

_Does it make sense? Or do you think it's just because it's New Year's, and I'll have forgotten about it in a week? I'm not drunk though, if you're worried about that. That's not what this is._

_I don't know. You don't need to know either, by the way. I just wanted to tell someone._

_Thanks for being that someone._

_Hope you had a good evening._

_-L_

x

Lisbon sealed her envelope, consulted with her map, and decided to take a chance and send her letter to Merced. She wasn't sure where Jane had gotten to, but hopefully he wasn't travelling too quickly. For some reason, she didn't think he was.

Then she decided to get to bed.

Maybe some sleep would straighten things out.

xxx

Sleep didn't exactly give her answers, but things did seem better in the morning, just as the old saying said they would.

She started idly looking into clubs, and places to volunteer. She wasn't exactly in a rush, but it was a good idea to see what was out there. She wasn't going to decide that day, obviously (best to make sure this wasn't a random New Year's induced whim). But a little preliminary research wouldn't hurt.

The next day brought a letter from Jane.

He obviously hadn't received her New Year's letter. But he had received the one she'd sent him after Christmas.

x

_Turlock, California (still)_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_No need to be defensive about that ridiculous Santa. I certainly didn't mean to disparage any of your presents. Quite the opposite. They were lovely. Well, except for Songs of the Seashore (whatever Van Pelt's estimable aunt Yolanda might say). Songs of the Seashore is absurd. Just as you intended it to be. I actually listened to it the other day. Along with the waves crashing along the rocks, the CD features this over-earnest woman urging me to cleanse my mind and listen to the rhythm of the waves, and think about the course of my life as the rocking of a boat as it travels through them, or some such nonsense._

_Ah well, I needed a good laugh. Which means that I suppose I shouldn'tcompletely mock Songs of the Seashore. Because it definitely amused me, even if it didn't fulfil its intended purpose. (I suspect if fulfilled the purpose you intended, though.)_

_I'm glad to hear that Dylan is a nice enough young man. Although, trust me when I say this, Teresa. Your height (or lack thereof) in no way makes you less intimidating. Just ask Rigsby. Remember the first case he worked on your team? I do. The poor man was a bundle of nerves any time you gave him an order, or even just asked him a question. And he's at least a foot taller than you, if not more. He's settled in now, of course. Not that you can't still intimidate him when you want to._

_Your ability to exercise your authority over those twice your size is one of your better qualities, Teresa. I've always enjoyed watching you order around the self-important local Sheriffs. It's quite entertaining._

_I'm glad you enjoyed your Christmas books and brooch. That was my intention. I got a text from Annie earlier today. It seems she decided to give Holmes a try. I thought you'd like to know that._

_Tomorrow's New Year 's Eve. I almost can't believe it. Another year over. I might try and find some fireworks somewhere, or something. I don't know. I hope you find some way of celebrating. By the time you get this, the New Year will have almost certainly come and gone._

_I hope it treats you well,_

_-Patrick_

x

Jane's letter made her smile. She wrote a breezy reply in the same teasing tone he'd used. She tried not to think about Jane, sitting in his car alone on New Year's watching distant fireworks. For some reason, she doubted that he'd been right in the thick of things, wherever he'd been.

Suddenly unhappy, she quickly sealed the letter and sent it to Madera. Hopefully he'd get at least one of them. Maybe he'd get both.

It was hard to say.

Then she decided to go for a walk. She suddenly needed to get out of her apartment. Maybe she'd stop by the store and get a few groceries or something. She needed to move, do something...

She needed a distraction.

Luckily for Lisbon, that distraction literally bumped into her in the bred aisle. She turned quickly after picking up a loaf of whole wheat bread, only to crash into someone turning the other way.

She'd been mid-apology, when she recognized the man she'd collided into.

His name was Geoff, and he was a friend of Diane's. Lisbon had actually met him only a few days earlier at the New Year's party. If she remembered correctly, he was an architect. And he liked dogs. She was also pretty sure he played basketball in his spare time. And come to think of it, she thought he'd said he'd just moved into the neighbourhood. Which would explain why he was at this grocery store.

Her apology slid into a self-conscious smile and a friendly greeting.

Geoff smiled back, and seeing it, Lisbon had to admit there may have been a reason she remembered several specific details about his life.

It seemed he remembered who she was too. If his, "Hello Teresa! I was hoping we'd meet again. You left the party so quickly!" was anything to go by.

Before Lisbon really knew what was happening, she'd accepted his invitation to dinner (he'd insisted it would be payment for nearly squashing his bread). Then Geoff sent her another friendly smile, and went on with his shopping.

Lisbon turned back to her own grocery needs a second later, albeit far much more cheerfully than when she'd first walked in the store.

And why not? She'd just decided that she should try and make some new friends, maybe even carve out a little bit of a personal life. Look how well that was going already!

xxx

TBC

A/N: I decided to split this chapter in two. It was insanely long. I'll put them both up tonight (or very early this morning, as it were), but seriously, the length was insanity. This wasn't intended to be a cliffhanger, so don't worry, but it probably makes a good chapter end anyway.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Here we go, the second half.

Chapter 15

xxx

Lisbon's optimism about her date with Geoff lasted until about midway through the main course. His smile over dinner was just as charming as it had been at Diane's New Year's party, and then later in the bread aisle. He'd actually listened to her answers when he asked her questions. He was a very nice guy, really. He'd just moved from New York. He'd told her about living there, told her about his sister who lived in California and was a nurse. He'd talked about his new job. He'd talked about his favourite sports teams (she'd violently disagreed with him on most of them, and they'd gotten into quite the debate as they waited for the waiter to bring them their bill).

They'd had a good time. Well, she had. She assumed he had too. He'd suggested getting together for coffee maybe the next week to continue the argument.

He'd make a great friend. But that was it. That was all it would ever be, at least for the time being.

Luckily, they'd both known it, even if neither of them had said it aloud.

Lisbon had read it clearly in his eyes after he'd kissed her cheek after dinner.

She sighed as she drove back to her condo. She'd been looking forward to the evening too. Not that it had been a total disaster. Good friends were hard to find, and someone to argue with about basketball would always be welcome.

Romance wasn't something you could force. (Jane could have told her that.)

She guessed it just hadn't been meant to be. She tried not to be disappointed.

It was just, it would have been so much easier if she _had_ been genuinely attracted to Geoff. But _no. _She'd suddenly realized about half an hour into dinner that she'd had absolutely no romantic interest in the man sitting opposite her. Because she was just that ridiculous. He'd been practically _perfect_, and of course, her brain (or maybe her heart) had just yelled NO. It wasn't fair.

It just wasn't fair.

And the worst part was, she couldn't even pretend that she didn't know why the date hadn't worked.

She'd told herself she was looking for balance. She'd also told herself she was looking for a distraction.

Distractions only worked for so long.

Lisbon dropped her purse on her couch and stared at the unopened letter on her coffee table. Usually she opened them right when they arrived, but she hadn't wanted to open this one before getting read y for her date. A clear mind had seemed important.

(And that fact alone made ignorance, even willful ignorance awfully difficult.)

Sighing, Lisbon dropped onto her couch. She figured she might as well read the letter now.

x

_Madera, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I'm sorry that you're feeling dissatisfied with your life. Or maybe not dissatisfied. Maybe just restless. I don't know. Maybe you are dissatisfied. If it makes you feel any better, I don't think there's anything wrong with you for feeling that way. We all feel like that sometimes. I certainly do. Let's be honest, I've been driving around California for months trying to figure out what I want. You're way ahead of me, if that makes you feel any better. I don't know if it will, since I'm hardly a good example of mental balance._

_But I don't want to discourage you. I think you absolutely can find some kind of mental balance. I think that joining a club or volunteering is a great idea. I'd suggest a book club, but with your schedule, I'm not sure that anything with deadlines would be ideal. Still, you know best what'll work for you, so maybe I will throw it out there. Particularly if you can find one that's particularly low key._

_On the other hand, volunteering would probably give you more of a sense of purpose. And you like having a sense of purpose. You do like trying to save the world, Teresa. You definitely like being active and doing things. So maybe that would be more your style?_

_And I absolutely think that keeping in touch with Annie and Tommy on a regular basis is great. For all three of you. You always seem so happy when you talk about your family, Lisbon. Even when you're worried about them. You need them. And they need you. I know they do._

_It sounds like your New Year's was more eventful than mine. I just ended up watching the town's fireworks from my car, parked on a hill outside of town. It was peaceful. I didn't make any resolutions, but maybe I should. I don't know if I believe in them, but I also don't think they're something you believe in. I agree with you; they're about trying to be better. I'm not always good at being better, but now, well... now that... Maybe it's time I give it a try. I'm not entirely sure I'll be very good at it, unfortunately._

_Still, I guess I'll have to put some thought into what my resolutions might be._

_I actually got two letters from you today. It was a good thing I stopped off at the Merced post office as I drove through. I'm glad to see that you were in a better mood in your second letter._

_I hope January continues to treat you well, dear. I'll write again soon, next time with non-holiday related news. I'll think up something fun to tell you._

_Love Jane_

x

Lisbon bit her lip.

Jane was making resolutions? What did that even mean? Who knew what his resolutions would be. Try to sleep on a semi-regular basis? Try to figure out half of the chaos floating around in my brain? Try to achieve some measure of peace at the end of the year?

She sighed.

She was in no frame of mind to deal with any of that.

She resolved instead to write him a letter about Rigsby's attempt to set Cho up on a date with a friend of Sarah's. It was a pretty funny story. And right now, the lightness would be much easier to deal with.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I don't have much to report on the subject of New Year's resolutions. Unsurprisingly (given the success most people have with resolutions), I don't seem to be getting anywhere with mine. I can't decide where to volunteer. Finding a club to join isn't exactly easy, unless you have something in mind (I will consider a book club though – thanks for that). Although, I did talk to Annie last night, so that's progress._

_So instead of talking to you about my personal life, I thought I'd talk to you about Cho's. _

_Before I go any further, I should say that most of my information is second-hand. I heard the main points from Van Pelt, with the odd comment from Cho and/or Rigsby when I asked. It's a pretty funny story though._

_You see, Sarah, it turns out, is a bit of a matchmaker. And she set her eye on Cho. Poor Rigsby just got swept into it all, against his will. What happened was [...]_

x

Over the next few weeks, Lisbon found herself getting more and more frustrated in general.

The team had a couple of difficult cases. Bureaucracy got in the way, and Lisbon couldn't see a way of cutting through it. Everything seemed to take at least twice as long as it should have. She still couldn't seem to make up her mind about volunteering somewhere. She was half tempted to just storm into the local soup kitchen and offer her services (which wasn't a half bad idea, actually, now that she thought about it, maybe minus the "storming in" part).

And to make matters worse, Jane had suddenly decided to start driving around California cities in figure eights.

It was just ridiculous.

Lisbon figured it meant that he had something on his mind that he was grappling with, but it was still annoying.

She needed some kind of outlet for her frustrations, and based on his replies, she wasn't even sure he was getting half of what she was sending his way.

Not that it mattered, as far as her frustrations were concerned, she supposed. Writing the letters themselves was cathartic in its own way, whether Jane got to read the words or not.

Still, something just felt off.

Then came the Timothy Roberts case.

Lisbon wasn't sure why the case of the missing nineteen year old was affecting her so much. She'd certainly seen much worse over the years, but that didn't seem to matter.

She'd had a bad feeling about it right from the start. Still, she'd tracked down leads tirelessly with her team, interviewing a suspicious sounding father, and an even more suspicious sounding step-father, not to mention the ex-con living two streets over, only to find that it'd been his college professor. He'd claimed to be in love with the boy, and snapped when Tim rejected him.

The body hadn't been a pretty sight when they'd found it, buried in the professor's backyard.

Lisbon had felt sick to her stomach.

She watched her team drag themselves out of the office one by one, sending them off with what she hoped was an encouraging nod. She also hoped they'd find a way of working their way through it.

Then she dragged herself home.

She needed to find a way of working though it herself. She still wasn't sure why the case had affected her the way it had. Maybe because it had started out as a missing persons, not a murder. That always carried with it an element of hope, hope that the victim might still be alive.

Not Timothy though. He'd already been dead for three days when they found him.

She really needed to work through it all. Not that she had someone to work through it with. She couldn't even write to Jane about it. He'd requested that their letters be a murder-free zone after all.

Suddenly, Lisbon felt anger welling up inside her at her ex-consultant and her supposed _friend_.

The jerk. The selfish jerk. Who was he to make all the rules? To make demands? What about what she needed? Or wanted?

She always tried to help, and he... he... Lisbon studiously ignored the brooch currently pinned to her lapel (where it almost always was now).

Angrily, she pulled a piece of paper from her drawer and began to write.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_You asked me not to write about murder in these letters. You asked me to keep them work free. You asked me for a lot of things of me. You always have._

_And you know what I've decided?_

_Screw you._

_You don't want to hear about murder? It's hard for you? Well, you know what? It's hard for me too. Did you ever think about that? Sometimes my job sucks. Sometimes I want someone to talk to about it all. You know who that person used to be? You. It was always you. God only knows why._

_Because today was terrible. There was a missing nineteen year old kid this week. Maybe you heard about it on the news? Or did you turn off the television the second you heard the word murder? Anyway, guess whose team was assigned to that one? Guess who had to tell the kid's parents that their son wasn't missing anymore because we'd just found his body in some sicko's basement? Guess who had to stand there, unflinching and comfort his poor mother, and then support the team in the aftermath? Nothing worse than hoping to find someone alive, only to find a body, after all._

_Oh right, it was me. It was all me. Just me. _

_Alone._

_No one asked me if I was okay. No one asked me how I was doing. No one wondered if I wanted to talk._

_Quite the opposite really, since you told me not to talk to you about it._

_You were the only one I used to be able to talk to about it. The only one I felt like I could talk to about it. The only one..._

_And the worst part is, I'm not even mad at you. Not really. I just wish you were here. I wish about a million different things, all of them not really fair. Because I know why you're not here. I know that you're screwed up. I know that you need time. But I don't care. Not right now._

_I just want someone to talk to. I want to sit on my couch and drink tea, and talk. Or maybe drink tea and not talk._

_Instead I'm just upset. At that horrible professor who killed his own student. At my job, for being this overwhelming thing sometimes, and always being the dominant thing in my life. And at you, for being gone, and for not even letting me talk to you._

_It's not fair, but life isn't fair, is it?_

_I wish life was fair. I'm sorry that it isn't._

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just wish you were here._

_-Lisbon_

x

When she was done furiously writing, Lisbon stared at the sheet of paper in front of her, aghast. She immediately folded it up, and shoved it into the back of a drawer. She couldn't send that. She absolutely couldn't. Her situation wasn't fair, but it also wasn't fair to throw it all on Jane, to blame him.

Maybe getting it all down on paper would help her somehow.

Sighing, she took another piece of paper from the drawer and started to write another letter, one of her usual types of letters, full of fun, silly little stories. Stories about the book she was reading, a ridiculous thing that had happened in the break room a few days ago, an update on Annie.

She wasn't sure it was entirely convincing, or as cheerful as some of her past letters had been, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. In a way it helped just a little, on the surface at least. Maybe that was something.

Lisbon glanced at her map and decided to send it to Jamestown. It might not even matter what she wrote. Jane's path had been so strange lately; he probably wouldn't even get it.

He did get it though.

She knew he had, because a few days later, she received a rapidly scrawled note from him in reply.

x

_Jamestown, California,_

_Dear Teresa,_

_What's wrong? I just got your letter in Jamestown. The one where you described Wainwright's reaction to finally being exposed to Gillis' usual lunchtime ritual._

_It's not right (the letter, not the ritual. The ritual is absolutely accurate, obviously). I know something's wrong. I don't know what, but the tone's just off. Are you alright? What is it? Please tell me._

_I'm worried about you._

_Send your reply to Jamestown. I'll wait here until I hear from you._

_-Patrick_

x

Lisbon stared at the letter in her hand, wondering what to do. After a second, she walked across the room, and pulled her original letter from the drawer where she'd hidden it. With trembling hands and a thumping heart, she folded it into an envelope.

Taking a blank sheet of paper from the same drawer, she added a short explanatory note.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_Enclosed is the original letter I wrote you on the day that I sent you my re-write, the one that you rightly called not genuine. There was something wrong; I just didn't want to tell you what it was. I didn't know how to tell you, really. You'll see why. I'm sending you the real letter now. I'm sorry. I was upset. I don't even know if I meant it all, or what I meant, or... well, here it is._

_Make of it what you will. _

_-L_

x

Lisbon resolutely sealed and addressed the letter, sending it on its way. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she couldn't say that she regretted sending it.

Not entirely.

She just hoped he understood

A few days later, Lisbon found another letter at her condo. It wasn't quite the one she'd been expecting though.

The first surprise was that it arrived tucked inside a bouquet of purplish-blue violets. The second surprise was its message

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Don't apologize for your letter. Don't. I deserved every word. I did. And I'd rather get that type of letter, the *real* letter, than have you try and shield me from things. I can't guarantee that I'll react well, not right away at least. But I still want to see how you really feel. I'm realizing that I need to start facing things head on. Well, okay, technically Madeleine told me that I need to start facing things head on. I've always known it, but I guess I just needed someone to hit me over the head with that fact._

_Madeleine can be good at that._

_I visited her a few days ago, by the way. She sends her love. She gave me your letter. It's the third copy of it that I've received (the other was from my old motel in Sacramento when I was passing through a few months ago, and then obviously I got a copy from Pete and Sam). It makes me wonder how many other copies are floating around out there as a testament to you tenacity, and your loyalty._

_Anyway, that's not the point right now. The point is that I... Well, I want to try to actually deal with some things._

_So I have a favour to ask of you. I know I don't deserve one, but I'm going to ask anyway, and count on your generosity and that loyalty I mentioned earlier._

_I need you to tell me why you did it. Why you shot Red John that day. I mean, I *know* why you did it, intellectually at least. But I think I need to hear it in your words._

_Please. Please tell me. Really lay into me if you want to, just like you did in that last letter. It's what I want. I think it's even what I need._

_I'm heading south, if you decide this is something you can give me._

_Thank you,_

_-Jane_

_P.S. Feel free to yell at me some more in your letter as well, if that makes you feel any better. Or feel free to tell me about your day, or your cases, or the murders. It wasn't fair of me to declare our letters a murder-free zone. To be honest, I'd forgotten that I had. I didn't realize you were still censoring yourself. I'm so sorry. If you need to talk about that, or get it off your chest, or just, whatever. I officially retract that restriction. Let me at least be your sounding board._

_I'm sorry again. I'm trying to be better. I really am. I'm trying to face my deficiencies now._

x

Lisbon stared at the piece of paper in her hand. She glanced at her violets and took a deep breath, trying to pull strength from the fact that he'd sent them at all. Then, she walked slowly to the kitchen table and pulled out a piece of paper. She sat, just looking at it for several minutes, planning out what she was going to write.

She'd do what he asked. It would be difficult, more so for him than for her probably, but she'd do it.

It was what they both needed. It was what they'd always needed. They'd just been putting it off.

It couldn't be put off any longer.

Gritting her teeth, Lisbon steeled herself and began to write.

xxx

TBC

Oh look! Another deleted scene!

Delete Scene #4: I almost put this after the next chapter, even though chronologically it goes here, then I decided, whatever. I'll leave it. It's written (for the better part of a week it was the only part of the chapter that was, to my great annoyance). I hope you enjoy.

xxx

Jane couldn't quite believe where he was sitting. He'd driven here himself, but he still couldn't quite believe it.

He was sitting across from Madeleine Hightower in her office, dunking a tea bag into his tea, pretending to ignore the fact that she was staring at him.

"So, Patrick," she said after a moment. "You never did tell me what you're doing here."

"I can't just drop by for a visit?" Jane asked.

Hightower didn't take the bait. "You can, but you didn't," she told him.

Jane leaned back in his chair, trying to maintain control. "Then tell me Madeleine," he said. "Why did I come here?"

Hightower leaned back herself, opening a drawer in her desk. "I don't know for sure," she admitted. "But I'd imagine it has something to do with this." She handed him a letter from her desk.

Jane's heart gave a painful thud. Even without seeing the handwriting on the front, he knew exactly what it said. He'd already received two other copies. Nonetheless, he reached for the familiar letter, feeling the rush of something akin to relief her notes always gave him.

Madeleine was smiling now. It was irritating. "You don't seem surprised," she murmured.

Jane frowned. Why was that everyone's first reaction? Why _should_ he be surprised that Lisbon was writing to him? Of course he and Lisbon were keeping in touch. "I'm not surprised," he admitted.

"I assume that also means you know what that says," Hightower prompted.

"I do," Jane nodded.

"So then that's not why you needed to come here."

Jane looked up in surprise. "I didn't _need_ to come here..."

"Yes, you did," Hightower interrupted. "You need something. I can see it on your face. "

"You're reading facial expressions now, Madeleine?" Jane asked, somewhat sarcastically.

"Something like that," Hightower murmured. "You're frustrated."

Jane stared at her. "Of course I'm frustrated!" he exploded.

"Why?" Hightower asked, still maddeningly calm.

"I..." Jane sputtered. "I don't know!"

Suddenly Hightower smiled.

"I'm glad you find this funny," Jane grumbled into his tea.

"I'm sorry," his old boss apologized. "I really am, Jane. I'm just not used to seeing you at a loss."

"Hmph."

Hightower sobered. "You really are upset."

"Of course I'm upset," he muttered.

"Is it Red John?" she asked softly.

He sighed. "What else would it be?"

She watched him for a moment. "You're having trouble coming to terms."

"I don't even know what that means," Jane admitted. "It's been months, and I feel like I'm getting nowhere, so I thought maybe, if I talked to people who... who..."

"Who Red John also hurt," Hightower supplied.

"Yeah," Jane admitted.

Hightower watched him again. "I'm sorry Jane," she said after a moment. "I'm not sure how much help I can be there. I've put it all behind me. Or, I've tried to at least. Mostly I have. I had to, for my kids. I had to get past it. They need their Mom. And I, well, I pretty much picked up and started a new life. I haven't really reconciled it to the one I had before. I don't know if that helps."

"It doesn't," Jane replied bluntly.

Hightower paused. "Have you thought about just packing up and moving across the country?" she asked. "Starting again, like I did?"

"Yes," Jane admitted.

"But you haven't done it," Hightower continued.

"No," Jane confirmed, glancing at the letter in his hands.

Hightower smiled slightly, her suspicions confirmed. "And what does Lisbon think of all this?" she asked lightly.

Jane shrugged. "I haven't asked her," he admitted.

"Why not?" Hightower demanded.

"What's she going to say?" Jane shot back. "She's _thrilled_ that Red John's dead. Probably _thrilled_ that she got to be the one to shoot him too."

Hightower glared at him. "You think she _wanted_ to kill another human being."

Jane paused, momentarily chastened. "No, not exactly. That's not quite what I meant."

"Good," Hightower said, still glaring.

"I don't think she's upset about what happened though," Jane muttered. "Or the _way_ it happened."

Hightower just stared. "Yeah, I'd imagine this is Teresa's _ideal_ outcome," she said dryly

Jane shrugged, staring mulishly at his cup, unwilling to admit the truth of that statement, even to himself.

In the ensuing silence, Hightower suddenly realized something else. "You're _angry._ At her," she said in something close to surprise.

Jane looked up. "Am I? I don't know."

"She killed the man you were supposed to," Hightower said, trying to treat the conversation like she was a neutral observer, and this was just a kind of a police interview.

Jane reacted with his usual stubbornness, "She knew what I wanted."

"She saved you from yourself," Hightower clarified.

That finally made the man across from her angry. "I didn't ask her to do that! I didn't _want _her to do that!" Jane growled, his eyes flashing.

Madeleine looked superior. "Are you sure about that?"

That question stopped Jane's anger in its tracks, replacing it with shock. "_What?"_

"If that was really true," Hightower pointed out. "If you really didn't want someone to try and save you then you should've found yourself another partner years ago."

Jane's brain quite literally stalled. "I..."

"Chose her," Hightower finished bluntly.

"She wasn't a choice," Jane corrected, vigorously shaking his head. "I didn't have a choice. I was _assigned_ to her team by the director of the CBI."

"In the beginning," Hightower agreed, letting the implications dangle in the air.

Jane didn't know quite what to do with those implications. "I..."

"Who are you really angry at Patrick?" Hightower asked, softening. "Do you even know?"

"What do you think I've been trying to figure out all these months?" he asked in pure frustration.

Hightower met his eyes evenly and told him the truth. "I don't think you've been trying to figure out anything, Patrick. I think you've been avoiding... well, everything, I guess."

He didn't reply.

"Look at your letter," she urged him, gesturing to the piece of paper in his hands.

"I told you, I've already read it," Jane muttered.

Hightower smiled. "Look at it anyway. Read it again. And if you're going to sort through things, actually sort."

"Why do you think I came to see you?" Jane demanded.

Her reply was blunt. "You're lonely."

Hightower was pleased to see that she'd shocked him again. "What?" he demanded.

"And I'm the next best thing," she added.

"I need to get everything straight in my head before I see her!" Jane snapped. He did. He absolutely did. He needed to figure stuff out. He couldn't dump this all on Lisbon. What if he did, and he got too angry, and he... What if it was too much... what if she... what if... It couldn't happen.

"Did it ever occur to you that she might be part of the reason you can't get everything straight?" Hightower asked, cutting through his disjointed thoughts. "Did it ever occurred to you that she's tied up in this?"

Jane flinched and looked away.

Madeleine almost softened again, then she steeled herself. It might hurt, but he needed to hear it. No one else was ever going to tell him. No one else would dare (well, except for Lisbon, had it been any other subject but this). "Have you even asked her about that day, Patrick? Have you asked her why?"

"Ummm…"

"God give me patience," Hightower muttered under her breath. He was being utterly ridiculous. She suspected the pair of them were. The poor terrified fools. "Patrick, you're not sorting _anything_ out by this little rambling thing you've got going on here. You're just avoiding."

"I…"

Hightower overrode his attempt at interrupting. "And unless you want to spend the rest of your life in limbo, you need to figure it out."

"I don't know…" he said softly.

"Start with her," Hightower told him. If she knew Teresa Lisbon, it'd work out. That woman wouldn't let herself be pushed away, not by him.

Jane was still uncertain. He didn't deserve to make demands of Lisbon. He didn't deserve to ask anything of her. It might not work, but it might also be a disaster. So much could go wrong... "But what if…"

"You'll lose her eventually if you don't," Hightower warned.

Jane didn't answer.

Hightower examined him carefully. "But you know that already, don't you? Somewhere deep down in that stubborn skull of yours. Has she already started to pull away? Does she seem upset? Are you worried that this limbo isn't enough for her anymore?"

Jane flinched, ever so slightly.

Hightower reached over and took Lisbon's letter from him, a small part of her brain snickering when she saw the flash of panic on his face. "She was the one to open the lines of communication. Maybe it's your turn to take the next step."

Jane swallowed, reaching for his letter.

Madeleine let him take it. "Just think about it Patrick, for both your sakes."

He nodded once, before slipping out of her office.

xxx


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Since all my lovely reviewers asked for this so nicely... (Also, my brain is in story-wrap up mode.) Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. I'm horribly behind on my review replies, but I'm hoping to catch up this week. I will thank you all, I promise. I really appreciate the reviews. They always make my day.

Alright, here we go.

Chapter 16

xxx

Lisbon found that once she started writing, the letter about Red John was surprisingly easy to write. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. She didn't reread the letter, couldn't bear to second guess it. She figured the first draft would be more genuine anyway. She hoped Jane felt that way too.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm going to try my best to answer your letter, to explain. I don't know if my explanation will turn out to be what you want… Or, not what you want. (You asked me once not to write just what you wanted to hear, remember?) I'm not sure my explanation will help, let's say. I'll do my best, though. If there's anything I can do, you can always ask me. You know , right? _

_Anyway, Red John. It's a long story, but I'll start at the beginning. Bear with me. I do think we need to talk about this. I'm going to try not to yell – even in letter form. Maybe a letter will make this easier to get out, since you're not actually standing in front of me._

_To be honest, Red John used to absolutely terrify me some days. Just the idea of him, which I suspect was his plan all along. He liked to play mental games. I tried not to think about it, tried not to think about what could happen to me, since I was in charge of the case. You always have to do that as a cop, you know. You can't think about what the criminals might decide to do to you one day. You go mad if you dwell on it. But Red John was always just that little bit worse, for obvious reasons._

_And also because of you. Maybe not at first, when you originally joined my team. Back then I was too busy trying to adjust to your methods, and trying to adjust to the case. There was a lot to adjust to._

_I'd see you go nuts, whenever the serial killer was mentioned. I'd see you get tunnel vision. And I'd see you run after him, barely pausing for breath. At least, that was what it looked like. I didn't know quite how to deal with it. Your methods were (mostly) fine when we were working a normal case, I'd tell myself all I could do my best to keep tabs on you, stop you from getting killed, that sort of thing. But I wasn't going to jump in front of every punch (there were too many of them), and I wasn't going to take more responsibility for you than was in my job description. Of course, the Red John cases always threw all ridiculously practical little rules out the window._

_You were always so extreme. And I guess, well, I won't claim to understand exactly what you were (and still are) going through. I'd never do that. But I think I do understand a little of what it's like to lose your family, to feel like you couldn't save them. I empathized with that. I wanted to help. I liked you. More than I wanted to, and definitely more than I expected to._

_I got involved in your little crusade, and not just because it was my case too. I didn't want you to feel like you were going it alone. I wanted you to feel like part of a team, part of *my* team. You were *my* consultant, and *my* responsibility, and then a little bit later *my* friend. Somewhere along the way, we became friends._

_I liked you. It irritated the hell out of me, but I did, and not just because you were on my team._

_I didn't like the idea of you becoming this cold, vengeful killer like you planned. Not because I didn't think you had the capacity for that, or because I think that a strict adherence to the law is right absolutely 100% of the time (we both know better than that), but because I didn't like the idea of Red John destroying you. Of you just letting this tragedy completely takeover your life and destroy what was left of it. And just... Look, I've seen firsthand what can happen when cops take matters into their own hands. It's rarely pretty, and there's a damn fine line between justice and well, vengeance (as I told you all those years ago, do you remember?)._

_I'm not judging anything you did. I understood it. I've always understood it (that's part of the reason it scared me). I wanted to help you see the bigger picture. Yes, I wanted to help you. I'm not saying Red John didn't deserve to die. I just, didn't want you to do it in cold blood._

_Then you shot Timothy Carter. God Jane, you very nearly ended up in jail for the rest of your life. Do you know what that was like for me? You may not have cared one way or another, beyond the fact that Red John was still alive of course, but I did. I definitely did. I was stuck in a hospital bed with a shoulder-wound, terrified that you were going to be found guilty and get the death penalty._

_Then you didn't, but Red John still wasn't gone. I thought he was for a little while, but he wasn't. All that trouble had been for nothing. We were right back where we started._

_Slowly, the serial killer started making himself known again._

_Soon we were back on his trail. You and me._

_But I couldn't do it again. Not quite like we had before at least. I couldn't cope with another trial. I couldn't stomach the idea of you shooting him again; you'd have almost certainly gone to jail, or worse. There's no way you wouldn't have been found guilty, unless there were about two thousand witnesses and the shooting was so obviously self-defence that even the toughest judge would have tossed the case out of his court. I had no idea how to deal with it all a second time, even if I figured I'd almost certainly have to. It always felt like this horrible axe hanging just above my head that I tried very hard not to think about._

_Then we got a Red John case (that last Red John case), and you went missing. (Which, seriously, I should have had you electronically tagged for those cases. I know I used to joke, but it wasn't the worst idea I've ever had.) I finally tracked you down though, rushing in as quickly as I could, praying that you weren't already dead. (I thought you might be. Did I ever tell you that?) I really didn't want you to be dead. You weren't dead, but he had a gun pointed at you. So I pointed one at him right back. That's just how it's always going to be._

_And yeah, when I had the shot, I took it. I didn't think twice. And I absolutely was relieved to take it. Truthfully? I was thrilled it wasn't you pulling the trigger. My shot was so obviously self-defence, so obviously absolutely justified. Yours never would have been. I took the axe hanging over my head and used it to cut down the nightmare. I won't apologize for making that decision, especially since he might have shot you five seconds later. I won't apologize for not waiting for you to get your hands free and take the shot yourself. (He would have shot you first anyway.)_

_I won't apologize for anything I did that day._

_This time it needed to be clean. I've always been able to see the situation more clearly than you._

_So that's why I did it. I did it because he needed to go away, and he was never going to let himself be taken alive. I know that now. I did it so both of us could move on with our lives (or try to). And I did it to save your life. I won't apologize for that either. Your life is worth more than your revenge to me. You had to know that. I told you that. I told you I'd try to stop you from killing him in cold blood. I'm an officer of the law Jane, a bit unorthodox sometimes, but... _

_The only thing that I'm sorry about is that you're upset. I'm sorry that it hurt you, or confused you or whatever it is that you're dealing with now._

_I'll never be sorry that I did it though._

_That's my explanation, such as it is. I hope it helps. You know where to find me if you have questions._

_-Teresa_

x

Lisbon slowly addressed her envelope. She didn't need to check her map this time to decide where to send it. Jane had said he was going south. He may not have specified a place, but she knew that direction could only mean one thing.

The Malibu house. She could probably send it right to his address, but she wasn't sure he was still getting mail there. Besides, probably better to just send it to general delivery as she usually did. The familiarity might make things easier somehow. For both of them.

She only hoped her letter helped.

And that they could somehow weather the storm (if there was one).

It was always so hard to tell with Jane, always so hard to figure out what he was thinking, or how he'd react. Especially when Red John was involved. She only hoped he'd find a way to deal with it all.

She'd miss his letters, if he chose not to reply.

Reply he did though.

A few days later she found an answering letter in her mailbox.

It was another one she couldn't open right away. Didn't know what she'd find. Wasn't sure if she was ready.

Eventually, armed with a deep breath (and her pearl handled letter-opener), Lisbon took the plunge.

x

_Lisbon,_

_I didn't ask you to save me. I didn't ask you to put yourself in danger. I didn't ask you to make Red John your problem._

_He was supposed to be mine._

_All I had for years, all that kept me going for a decade, was that it might have been possible to avenge my family's murders, you know, the ones that I basically caused. That was *all* I had._

_And you took that away from me. You swooped in, somehow outsmarted the two of us, putting yourself into extreme danger, but that's apparently fine, because you're a cop. Not that I could do the same thing, because you've always been hypocritical that way. And then, instead of Red John pointing a gun at me while you watched, he was pointing a gun at you while you watched._

_Catching him would never have been worth your life. You shouldn't have put yourself in danger. It didn't matter if I died. I was prepared for that. I didn't, don't deserve redemption. You weren't supposed to run in. It was just supposed to be me and him._

_This wasn't your fight. It was mine. I'd already made the choice. I wanted to kill him. I didn't get to. And it's all your fault._

_Because you decided to do it your way. This is what you wanted. Who are you to make that decision? Why do you get to decide? Don't I get to decide anything? It's only my life, my fight._

_Now it's all gone, and I failed. I failed, because you've got a saviour-complex._

_But I didn't ask you to save me._

_After all we've been through, I can't believe you did._

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon stared blankly at the letter in her hand for nearly a full minute.

Then her anger started to build. Her anger very quickly turned into absolute fury. He had the _nerve_ to be angry at her for saving his life? Because he somehow had some monopoly on stopping the serial killer?

Had he honestly said this was all her fault?

She wanted to scream, but she was so angry she couldn't think of an appropriate insult. They were all too good for the likes of Patrick Jane. He was in class _all his own._

She'd kill him if he ever dared show his face in Sacramento again. She'd absolutely kill him. No judge would convict her. They all pretty much hated him anyway.

Maybe she wouldn't wait until he showed up in Sacramento. Maybe she'd hunt him down and kill him now.

But first, she'd give him a piece of her mind.

Lisbon wrenched open the drawer of her coffee table and angrily started writing.

x

_Patrick Jane,_

_Are you honestly, seriously, saying this is my fault? _

_You're a complete jerk. A complete and utter asshole._

_For the first time in months, I'm glad you're halfway across the state. There's no way I could look at you right now. I can barely even write. I think I'd kill you if you were actually here. How dare you? You didn't ask me to help you with Red John? First of all, you did ask me. You wouldn't have gotten anywhere without me. You needed me. Maybe you didn't always actually say the words, "Lisbon, I need your help," but you drew me into your little web of lies and schemes all the damn time. And I went willingly. I lied for you. I hid for you. I nearly lost my job more than once, FOR YOU, and for Red John. And I was okay with that. Someone needed to stop Red John. But don't tell me that you didn't ask me for help._

_And even if you hadn't… No one had to ask me. Don't you get that? Catching serial killers is pretty much my job description. I didn't make Red John my problem. Red John made himself my problem. He made himself our problem. Maybe my connection wasn't quite as direct as yours, but don't you act like you're the only person who's lost people along the way._

_And don't you yell at me for not abandoning you to your supposed fate. Shockingly, I don't find it all that easy to just give up on people. And whatever you might think, your life isn't worth nothing. I'm not going to apologize for valuing your life above a serial killer's. The comparison's ridiculous._

_Oh, and as for me putting myself in danger, I was still in less danger than you were. You were TIED UP. If I hadn't fired when I did, we'd probably both be dead. One of us definitely would have been, possibly both of us. It was self-defence. I won't apologize for firing a gun to save my own life. And yeah, I was technically the one who took the kill shot. But we were on the same team, doesn't that mean anything? Besides, Rigsby was only about half a second behind me. His bullet hit its target too. It's not like I was working alone. I had a team. You used to too, remember? If I recall they were other people you asked for help from more than once. And now you're turning on us because you're scared that you might have to figure out how to live. You're terrified of facing things, of facing this. I used to be sympathetic, but not anymore._

_Tough. Figure it out. It's not our fault._

_I won't apologize for saving you. I won't apologize for doing my job. Your life matters to me, god only knows why. If you don't like it, you can stuff it. This is what I do. This is what people do, when... I care about you. And in spite of it all, I'm glad you're not dead. If you want to be an absolute jerk, you can do it on your own._

_I don't want to get another letter like that last one ever again. I won't._

_I've never asked you for anything. Or, well, almost never. I let you run off for months, and I wrote you letters, and I didn't ask you to come back, or try and make you deal with things, or put any pressure on you. I was damn understanding. I'd challenge you to find someone else who'd have been as understanding as I was, outside of a fricking convent. And even then, no. All the nuns I knew would have smacked you upside the head way before now._

_And then you said it was all my fault. Shut up. I'm sick of your nonsense. If you want to discuss this like a human being, that's fine, otherwise I'm done._

_-Lisbon_

x

Shoving the letter into an envelope, she sealed it and addressed it. She was mailing it right now. He needed to know what she thought. Stupid, egotistical, self-centred...

Oh, someone needed to punch him. She hoped somewhere out there, someone was. Right now. It was probably a safe bet with Jane.

With that, Lisbon practically ran t to mail her letter, slamming the door behind her.

Two minutes later, she stormed back into her apartment, slamming the door. She paced around in a rage muttering to herself. Slowly she began to calm down, or tried to. She forced herself to breathe deeply. Her anger was understandable. Red John was an emotional topic. They'd both been invested. She'd always known Jane was sensitive… She'd always known that when Jane finally faced up to things, it probably wouldn't be pretty. She'd always known Jane wouldn't cope well...

She'd been expecting this from him, even if it had still felt like a sucker-punch to the gut.

And if she was this upset, heaven only knew what was going through Jane's head right now...

Jane.

Lisbon's eyes drifted to still-unpacked box of books in front of her bookshelf and slowly filled with tears.

Jane, who'd lost his family. Who, before he even opened her letter was probably pretty messed up. Who was already full of guilt. Who had already admitted that he thought his life was worth trading to kill a serial killer.

Who was already probably in unbearable pain.

Oh god. What had she done?

xxx

The next few days were not particularly good ones for Lisbon.

She hadn't heard from Jane.

Of course, part of that was almost certainly due to a delay thanks to the mail system. She wasn't entirely sure how long it would take her letter to get to Malibu, and then for him to write back.

If he was even planning on writing back or course.

Lisbon was just lucky the team didn't have a case; she could feel herself getting more and more irritable. She knew she was being short with her team, and that only irritated her further. Happily, she'd kept her bad mood within the bounds of professionalism for the most part (even if she was sometimes more than a little curt). But she needed to pull herself together. She'd broken her stapler the other day out of sheer frustration when she'd been trying to force it to work in spite of a stable jam.

Maybe it was time to try yoga again. Or maybe it was time to just leave on a two week vacation, put it all behind her. Maybe she needed to get away for a while, clear her head.

She was pretty sure getting away _wouldn't_ clear her head at all, though. She was pretty sure she'd just come back and have all the exact same problems.

Lisbon sighed. She'd give it a few more days (give _him_ a few more days), and if not, maybe she'd seriously consider the vacation.

In the meantime, she vowed to smile politely and thank Van Pelt when the younger woman walked in the door with her completed filing. Lisbon decided that she might even ask about her day or make some other form of socially acceptable small-talk. And then, after Van Pelt left, Lisbon would not glare at the reports on her desk like they'd mortally offended her.

She was a grown woman, and she would figure this out. That was all there was to it.

xxx

That evening, Lisbon trudged up to her condo, feeling mildly pleased with herself. She thought she'd been reasonably successful in controlling her general restlessness that day, even if she'd reorganized the things on the top of her desk at least three twice. At least her team was looking less wary whenever they approached her office now; that was a good sign.

Still no letter in her mailbox of course, but she hadn't really been expecting one.

She'd barely been home for five minutes when there was a knock on the door. She opened it slowly to find an elderly man in uniform holding a clipboard.

"Sorry to interrupt your evening, ma'am. My name is Fred. I'm from Floribunda. Are you Teresa Lisbon?" he asked.

"Yes," Lisbon said softly.

He grinned. "Great! Then if you could just sign here, these are for you," he told her, handing her the clipboard and gesturing to the vases of flowers at his feet.

Lisbon glanced down and saw an assortment of about half a dozen flower arrangements of various colours. "Which ones?" she asked weakly.

"All of 'em," Fred told her cheerfully. "There's a letter tucked inside one of them somewhere too. I think it's in with the pink roses."

"Oh," Lisbon exhaled in disbelief. She couldn't believe he'd done this. This was different, even for Jane. (She didn't need a card to know he was responsible.)

"I can help you get 'em inside, if you want," the pleasant floral deliveryman added.

"Yeah," Lisbon murmured, opening the door. "Just put them, well, put them wherever. I don't really… I wasn't expecting…"

"It is a bigger order than we usually get," Fred admitted. "But it's certainly not the biggest I've seen. Your boyfriend's got good taste."

"He's not my boyfriend," Lisbon murmured, from behind the bouquet of tiger lilies she was carrying. She decided to put them on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, now, you'd best forgive him," Fred advised her, still cheerfully. "He didn't seem like such a bad sort when I talked to him."

"No, that's not… never mind," Lisbon said. It was too complicated to explain. She reached for her purse.

Frank waved her off before she could open it. "I'm sorry ma'am. I've been forbidden from accepting a tip from you. The gentleman who sent the flowers promised to compensate me for my troubles, and told me that he'd know if I accepted a tip from you too. Between you and me, ma'am, having spoken to the man myself, I believe him. Like I said, he didn't seem too bad, but there was something about him…"

"That's Jane," Lisbon said with a small laugh. "Thank you."

"You're welcome,' Frank told her, tipping his hat subtly. "You have a good evening now, and enjoy your flowers."

Lisbon glanced around her condo, now much more colourful thanks to the six new additions to her countertops and side tables (red carnations, orange tiger lilies, purplish blue violets, yellow daisies, blue iris and pink roses).

Biting her lip, she walked over to the pink roses (which had somehow ended up on the coffee table in the centre of her living room), and fished out her letter.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_Forgive me, dearest. Please forgive me._

_I knew I was angry and upset and just generally screwed up when I left. I guess I thought time had done more than it had. Do you know why I left without saying goodbye that day? I was terrified that if I saw you, you'd open that can of worms, and I'd break. I was afraid of what I'd say if I got angry. I was afraid it would be horrible and it would push you away. I told myself that I needed to work it all out first in my head. But I didn't work it out. I avoided it. And then I yelled at you anyway. I thought maybe it would be okay over letters, if there was distance. But my plan didn't quite work. I still had the original rush of overwhelming pain and hurt and horribleness when I read your letter. Which wasn't your fault (you're absolutely right about that – I'm so sorry), but you were the only one around to direct it towards. And then, after, when I'd calmed down (which admittedly took at least two days) you weren't there to apologize too. You were in Sacramento. In Malibu, there was only your angry letter, which arrived the next morning, hating me._

_And I hated myself. Then I vowed to try and fix it. Or, at least apologize. You're right, wallowing in the pain isn't helping in any way._

_Now I owe you an explanation. And I'm trying to give it._

_When I wrote you what I'm sure was an absolutely hateful letter a few days ago, I thought I had nothing left . Then I got your written and well-deserved rant, and I realized that wasn't quite true (although, I suppose it might be now)._

_That was when, by pure chance, I found the letter you dropped off at the house months ago. I was suddenly reminded of how hard you must have worked to get me that message. Your letter helped, like your letters always do._

_Even the angry one, the one where you yelled. It made me realize I deserved it._

_I think I needed to yell at you, or at someone. Just get mad, and cut through a lot of the mess in my mind. Maybe you needed to yell too. Maybe we both needed to yell. _

_That isn't an excuse by the way, it's an explanation._

_I am so sorry Teresa._

_I am glad I'm not dead. I always have been. I was just too stupid to realize. I still feel guilty about my family, maybe I always will. I'm so grateful you made it out of it all alive. I can't even tell you... That was my nightmare you know, that he killed you. When he almost shot you that night, I... Oh Teresa, I was frightened then, more frightened than I'd been in a long time._

_The fear, the anger, the guilt, the frustration, everything was all tangled up and half-suppressed in my head until I got your last two letters. And then slowly, things started to untangle._

_Thank you for never quite giving up on me. Thank you for giving me time to process. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for saving my life. _

_Thank you for writing me letters all these months. They've meant more than you could ever know._

_I'm still sorting things out. But now I'm genuinely sorting, and I think I might be making progress. He's gone, Teresa. He's really gone. You killed him. Thank you for that too._

_I'm going to keep writing to you. I'll give you the choice about whether you open the envelopes or not. I won't force myself on you, not when you've been so patient (you were right about that too). I know I've hurt you, and that it may take time for you to like me again. But I can be pat ient. I will be patient. You were patient for so long, now it's my turn. Please accept my apology. Please forgive me._

_Please write back,_

_Love Patrick_

xxx

Lisbon was vaguely aware of tears trailing down her cheeks. She let out a quiet sob as she read the letter a second time.

He was... sorry? He wanted her to forgive him?

It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting. She glanced around her apartment again. She certainly hadn't been expecting all the flowers. They were beautiful.

She took a deep breath.

Obviously she needed to write back. Tonight. He needed to know that she wanted to write back.

There was only one problem; she had no idea what to say.

xxx

Lisbon was still debating exactly what to write an hour or so later, when Annie called.

"Okay, tell me you're alright!" her niece said frantically as soon as Lisbon answered the phone. "What did he do?"

"Huh?" Lisbon asked in confusion.

"Jane," Annie clarified. "What did he do? He's been texting me for three days asking if I'd heard from you. Asking if you were alright. And then today, he really picked up the pace."

Lisbon laughed slightly hysterically. "I'm fine, I promise."

"_Aunt Reese,_" Annie warned. "I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," Lisbon countered.

"Then what's going on," Annie demanded. "If he's being a jerk, I'm not helping him."

Lisbon sighed. "He's not, I don't think," she admitted.

"Huh?"

"We had a fight," Lisbon admitted. "He's trying to apologize."

Annie paused. "You had a fight," she said slowly.

"Yes," Lisbon agreed. "But it's okay now."

"You had a fight in your _letters?_"Annie double-checked.

Lisbon laughed in spite of herself. "Yes Annabeth, it is possible," she said lightly. "We were due for a fight. Jane's probably just worried because of the time delay of the letters."

"Maybe that means it's time to bring your method of communication into the 21st century," Annie said dryly.

"I'll get back to you on that," Lisbon said dryly. "Tell Jane not to panic. And I'll explain in my letter."

Annie muttered something about being nothing but a messenger, but Lisbon thought she could hear the tapping of a text message.

"There," Annie said after a minute. "You sure nothing's wrong."

Lisbon glanced around her apartment, from letter to flowers. No way was she explaining even half of what had happened to a high school student. "I'm sure," she promised. "How are you?"

"Pretty good," Annie agreed. "I actually don't really have time to talk right now, though. I'm going out in half an hour. "

"Dylan?" Lisbon guessed.

"No, the girls tonight," Annie told her. "I'll call you later though, Aunt Reese."

"Okay," Lisbon agreed easily.

"Hey Aunt Reese?" Annie said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Jane just texted me again," Annie told her. "He says _San Angelo_, if that means anything."

"It does," Lisbon murmured. It meant a quite a bit actually. The city wasn't far from Malibu.

"Yell at him for me, would you?" Annie asked. "I don't have time right now."

"Sure," Lisbon murmured. "Night Annie."

"Night Aunt Reese, I'm glad you're okay." With that the teenager hung up.

Lisbon smiled at her phone, then turned towards the blank piece of paper.

Well, she had a city now, and a pretty good idea of what Jane was doing there. Which meant that he really was dealing with things.

Lisbon smiled, glad that she hadn't decided to go on vacation. He needed the support of her letters. He'd told her so. And she needed the letters too. Even if she didn't always know what to say.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I... I don't know what to say. Of course I accept your apology. Of course I... Oh. I don't know what to say. I'm still trying to figure it all out. I really wasn't expecting your letter._

_Maybe I just needed to yell too. Maybe we both did. Annie told me to insult you for her, but I don't feel like it right now, so if she asks, just tell her that I did._

_I'm not even sure if I mean everything I said in my letter anymore; some of it was just my own frustrations (I meant a lot of it though, like the part about you acting like a jerk. Nice to see you've apparently decided to stop)._

_I was angry. But that didn't mean I was done, or that I never wanted to see you again. It's just, it's frustrating, y'know?_

_Thank you for the flowers. They came today. I don't even care if you went overboard (which you did, as usual). They're beautiful._

_I love my flowers. All of them. I love them so much._

_They're a little unexpected though, a little overwhelming. I don't know what to say right now. Now I think I need to process. We can both process a little._

_In the meantime, please write me another letter. I'll have something to say when I reply, I promise._

_Love Lisbon_

X

Smiling to herself, Lisbon sealed her letter and addressed it to the city Jane had told her.

That was when her cell-phone buzzed with a text. Assuming it was Annie double-checking she was alright, Lisbon flipped it open without bothering to check the number.

She got the shock of her life when she read the message on the screen.

_Are you really writing me a letter?_

To her shock, she felt tears pool in her eyes a second time. It was such an unexpected change, although after the last letter she wasn't sure why. Maybe...

_It's all ready to be mailed tomorrow_, she assured him.

Jane's reply came almost immediately. _Thank you._

Lisbon bit her lip to contain her grin. _You're welcome._

Soon the phone was buzzing in her hand a third time. _I'll look forward to getting it. Good night Teresa._

Lisbon let herself smile. _Good night Patrick_, she typed.

With that, Lisbon shut her phone, deciding it was time for bed. After a moment's consideration, she picked up the pink roses and took them with her.

They'd look nice on her bedroom dresser.

xxx

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: SO, here we go. Next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Some of these more recent ones have been a bit more troublesome to write, so I'm pleased to hear that people are still enjoying them. This fic is going to be 18 or 19 chapters long. It depends on how the chapters break out. I didn't get quite as far as I was planning to with this one.

xxx

Chapter 17

xxx

Lisbon felt almost jittery over the next few days. Happy, to be sure. Definitely happy, but also uncertain. What would Jane's next letter say? How was he doing? Was he really doing better?

The anticipation was killing her.

Then, the letter finally came. (Okay, actually it came rather quickly, but Lisbon wasn't in any frame of mind to be reasonable.)

Lisbon's face split into what she knew was a ridiculous grin. She couldn't help it. For a start, the letter was just so _long_.

x

_San Angela, California_

_Dear Teresa,_

_Today was really a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, the sky was clear; I think I even heard a bird singing. And the diner on the corner even knew how to cook eggs. Have you ever just had a feeling that a day was going to be a good one? That was how I felt today._

_The icing o the cake was the letter I found waiting for me at the post office. You told me it was on its way, of course, but, it wasn't quite the same as actually getting it._

_Teresa… You don't owe me anything. If you don't know what to say, that's fine. Don't worry about it. If you think of something to tell me, excellent. Write it down. If not, that's fine too. Send me an empty envelope, or a text message saying you got my letter if that's easier. I'd love to hear from you (obviously), but if you need more time, I understand. I'm going to stick around San Angela for a few days, I think. No pressure, just so you know._

_I'm sure you know why I'm here. Now that' I've started dealing with what went on, I want to continue. You'd be quite pleased with my dedication, I think. Or, well, maybe not. I did spend most of the morning wandering around town, enjoying the weather, and trying to prepare myself for what was to come. But after lunch there was no more stalling._

_I visited Rosalind Harker._

_Where I received my second letter from you of the day. Your ability to appear in crucial moments is really quite something._

_Rosalind readily agreed to talk to me, which surprised me. Given all that's happened, I wasn't quite sure what my reception would be. She even made me tea._

_She asked after you, hoped you were well. I admit, I was forced to lie slightly at that point. Didn't want to tell her that you might be a little upset with me, or maybe just generally upset. Instead, I assured Rosalind that you were as strong and dependable as ever. I thought it was what you'd prefer._

_I told her I couldn't apologize for Red John's death (I refused to call him by the name she knew him as, but she didn't seem to mind). I did tell her I was sorry she got caught up in it all. I guess, I wanted to make her feel better, maybe absolve myself somehow, though I'm not sure for what. Part of me just feels like I need to talk to other people who were connected to Red John. That it somehow might help make sense of it all._

_Rosalind told me I didn't owe her anything, that I needn't feel guilty about Roy. Not if he really had done all of those things. She would always miss him, because he hadn't been a serial killer to her. He'd just been Roy. But she was trying to put it all behind her. It was hard, of course, since she'd felt such a connection to him._

_She even wished me well. I don't think she wants me to visit again though. Not that I'll have cause to._

_I did ask her one other thing, if she ever thought about moving, after what had happened in her house. She simply shrugged and asked why she should let him make her change her life. Besides, she wouldn't want to change everything, even if it made her a horrible person._

_I assured her that it didn't. Of course, she's a little bit crazy, but I guess we all are. It seemed like the right thing to say at the time. And it did make me realize that I don't think I could ever live in my house in Malibu again. Not permanently. Not now..._

_I'm telling you all this so that you know that I really am trying to tackle it Lisbon. I thought you'd like to know. _

_But that's enough about me. How are you? How is the team? And your job? Are the cases piling on your shoulders? Have you been doing those breathing exercises I taught you years ago? They really do help, dear. Scoff as you will._

_How is your gardening going? Are you still doing that? I hope so. For all of your complaining, I know you love it. You're making the world a little better, at least for your condo. Whenever you get discouraged, just think of Mrs. Foster. The one who appreciates all of the work you put in. Even if the woman in charge of the tenant's association is irritating. Think of Mrs. Foster. _

_Did you decide to volunteer anywhere? Or are you still looking into it?_

_How's Annie? And Tommy? And the rest of the Lisbon family? Is Dylan still in the picture? Are you planning another aunt/niece weekend? You should. You were so happy after the last one. _

_You don't have to answer all of my questions. You don't have to answer any of them, if you don't feel like writing. I'm just curious. I want to hear from you. Think of them as suggestions if you like. If you can't think of what to say, but still want to write. You can ignore parts of the letter if you can't talk about them right now._

_Or if there's something else you want to say. If there's something you need to get off your chest, or you need to yell at me again. I'll be in San Angela. _

_Speaking of San Angela, the most extraordinary thing happened to me here Teresa. A man stopped me on the street and attempted to sell me a book, and not just any book, but a book that would apparently change my life. Change my life! His words, obviously. He went on to explain how his organizational system would double my efficiency in the office. I tried to explain that I'm rather between jobs, and even when I wasn't, that I wasn't exactly one for organizational structure. He ploughed on, trying to convince me that his book would get me in the appropriate mindset to find a new job. Complete nonsense, of course, but I enjoyed his near-fanatical zeal. He was a pretty good salesman; you have to respect that. So I bought a copy._

_I don't want the book of course. Then I thought, who do I know who loves new organizational techniques and increased efficiency? One name immediately sprung to mind. You'll be receiving your copy of "Take Charge of your Office, Take Charge of your Life!" shortly, dear. No need to thank me._

_Hoping to hear from you,_

_Patrick_

x

Lisbon was grinning foolishly. She knew she was. But she didn't care.

The tone of Jane's letter was just so _different_. Well, okay, not completely different. He'd been silly and friendly and concerned before. But he'd also never been so direct about well, everything. She'd told him how she felt about Red John, and now he was reciprocating. And... and...

Lisbon found that she liked it, somehow.

That was all there was to it.

It was behaviour that should be encouraged.

Although, she figured she could probably do without "Take Charge of your Office, Take Charge of your Life." She could tell him that.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I don't know why you're so worried that I wouldn't write back. I told you that I'd have something to say in my next letter. I just needed a few days to sort. That's all. Unlike some people, I don't take months... Of course, I suppose I also had less to sort through. And I was joking before, by the way, in case that didn't come across on paper. Please don't apologize again, or something. It's fine. You needed time. I get it. I'm glad you're moving forward. I just... sometimes I get frustrated is all. And I miss you. There, I said it._

_But onto other things._

_It sounds like visiting Rosalind really helped you. She is a bit of an odd duck, but she is a nice woman._

_I don't know how she hasn't moved though. It's one thing to say that you don't want to be chased out of your life, but... On the other hand, it is probably a bigger deal to move into a new house if you're blind._

_Does this mean that you're selling the Malibu house? (Now it's my turn to tell you that you don't need to answer a question if you don't want to. Although, I still thought I'd ask.)_

_I don't think that I will answer all of your questions, mainly because there's an insane number of them, and the answers aren't really all that interesting._

_I still haven't decided on somewhere to volunteer. But yes, I am still taking care of the garden. I'm Mrs. Foster's new favourite person. Actually, she baked me cookies yesterday as a thank you. She loves that garden so much. I admit, I love it too. She's a lovely woman; sometimes I go and visit her in the evenings, just for a little while. Just to talk. Her late husband was actually a cop, Sac PD. He died five years ago. Retired before that. I'm kind of sad that we never crossed paths. Mrs. Foster says we'd have gotten along. I think she likes talking to someone about him, and about how she used to worry about him because of his job. Then what ended up killing him was a stroke on the golf course after he retired, of all things._

_Sorry, it's kind of a sad story. I know. I'll talk about something else._

_Annie and I haven't made firm plans for another weekend. She's still planning on coming in the summer for maybe a week though. And yes, Dylan is still in the picture. I haven't really heard much about him lately, not anything specific. I've been busy. But that reminds me, I should call Tommy, see how he's doing._

_Connor's actually been sick. Nothing serious, just a stomach bug, but Rigsby's been absolutely exhausted (I imagine Sarah too). Rigsby took a few days last week to stay with him. I think he's better now though, Connor, not Rigsby. Although, the fact that Connor's better means that Rigsby is too._

_Van Pelt's seeing a new guy. She seems happy. Cho is much the same as he always is. Steady as always._

_As for your very, um, thoughtful gift, I hope you don't mind if it joins "Songs of the Seashore" in becoming a coaster. I know you like to mock my tendency to read books on effective leadership, but I don't think I need to be taking advice from some random, probably self-published, quack on the street. I appreciate that you thought of me, but..._

_Anyway, I'm pretty good. I was happy to get your letter. I'm glad you seem to be doing so well._

_Still here,_

_Teresa_

x

Setting the letter on the table near the door to be mailed the next morning, Lisbon turned on her heel to figure out dinner.

She didn't even mind having to cook. For the first time in a while, things felt like they might be okay.

xxx

A few days later, away on a case in a hotel room in northern California getting ready to turn in for the night, Lisbon got a surprising text message.

_Hi. I'm on my way to Vineland. Your letter's in the mail, but I just thought, in case you wrote me another one..._

Lisbon grinned. _I haven't._ She texted back.

_Ah._ Jane replied. _I figured that was probably the case. But I thought, on the off chance..._

Lisbon bit her lip. _That was very thoughtful of you._

The reply was almost immediate. _Whatever. How is your case going?_

Lisbon blinked. _How did you know I was on a case?_

_I used to be a fake psychic._

She laughed, couldn't help it. _Fine, don't tell me._

She could picture his grin as she waited for his reply. _Patience, Teresa. Wait for my letter._

Lisbon stared at the screen for a minute before replying. _I will. Unfortunately, I should sleep._

Jane's next reply took a little longer to arrive this time. _Okay._

_Sorry. I'm exhausted, _Lisbon told him.

This time the in-coming text was nearly immediate. _Of course. I didn't realize how late it was. Sorry._

_No. It's fine. I don't mind. It was good to hear from you_, Lisbon assured him.

_You too. Sweet dreams, Teresa. And catch the bad guys._

Lisbon smirked. _I will. Night Jane._

Lisbon and her team did catch the bad guys, even it took them another day and a half to do it. When she arrived home, as she'd expected, there was a letter waiting for her.

x

_San Angela, California_

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I saw you on television again today._

_Away on a case obviously. It was a press conference in northern California. I hope you solve it, the case I mean, not the press conference. Those can be troublesome, but I'm not sure that they need to be solved... I'm sure you will. You certainly looked competent and in control; you weren't worried in the slightest. At least, that's how you seemed._

_You always look so confident, quietly so (unless someone's flustered you – a rare enough occurrence, though always a fun one). There's never a trace of arrogance in your demeanour. It's just professional, and competent. That must be comforting for the victims and the public. Sympathetic, but not overly so. Calm, firm, but never cruel or overly forceful. You just convey the idea that you'll get the job done. There's something in your voice. You've a lovely voice. You looked lovely too, obviously. I'm not the only one who thought so, if the way the local sheriff was watching you during the entire clip is anything to go by._

_I hope the case is going well. I'm sure it will. You're good at your job. Have I ever told you that, Teresa? I should have, if I haven't. I've always thought so. Sometimes a little set in your ways, but who isn't?_

_Oh, speaking of lovely, I was rereading some of your other letters the other day. You write a lovely letter, Teresa. Your writing's as lovely as your voice. Your notes are solid and dependable, but also with humour lurking around the edges, if it's not in the forefront. I've really enjoyed our correspondence. Learning things about you, how you think. And oddly, even when I wasn't sure I wanted to, I've enjoyed telling you things. Sometimes it was easier when you weren't standing right in front of me and I didn't need to see your reaction. There's something to be said for the long lost art of letter writing, I guess. But sometimes, I think I just wanted to tell you things. So thank you._

_As I said, I'll be in Vineland by the time you get this. Do you remember the Todd Johnson case? What a stupid question. Of course you do. The man was set in fire inside the CBI building, and that brought Ol' LaRoche down on our heads. Do you ever see him now? LaRoche, I mean. I know he was fond of you, in the end. Took you a little longer to warm up to him. I don't blame you; J.J. was an odd duck,to say the least. I think I'll stop by Vineland for a couple of days. I don't know what I'm looking for, but something. Part of me wants to hunt down Ellis Mars, just to give him the scare of his life. We'll see._

_Before leaving San Anglea, I went back to Hardy's farm. This was odd. It's empty now. I admit, I trespassed and then picked a lock to gain entry. Please don't report me to the local sheriff. We've had enough trouble with law enforcement there, don't you think? I don't know what I expected when I drove out, but all I found was a farmhouse. Just a farmhouse. Horrible things happened there of course, but I don't know... I guess I expected to feel more than I did._

_When I did think back on that day, I don't remember Maya, or Hardy taunting me, or the struggle. I remember you. Walking calmly downstairs, gun raised to save me, my knight in shining Kevlar. You came earlier than I wanted, but, just like you did a few months ago, you saved my life. You told me then that you cared about me. I was too stubborn to listen. It took me a while. Sometimes I'm slow. Then I saved your life right back. You had a gun pointed at you again. Also just like a few months ago. At least at the farm I wasn't helpless. I didn't agree with your decision at the time (and I'm not sure how I feel about it now, though I really don't think it matters anymore). But I never regretted saving you. I'll never regret that. At least that day I managed to make myself useful._

_And now, after all that, it's just an empty farmhouse. I think they're planning on tearing it down. It's been suggested at least. Some attempt to heal, I guess. A way of focussing on the positive. Most of us made it out alive._

_Maya Plaskett is alive, if seriously scarred._

_And you're alive._

_And I'm alive._

_And Red John and Hardy are dead._

_I think I'm okay with that._

_Anyway, enough of all that. There are other things that I want to talk to you about. More cheerful things._

_First though, to answer your question, I don't know what I'm doing with the Malibu house. I imagine I'll sell it eventually, but for the moment, I'm just leaving it as is. And not torturing myself by staying there. It seems a reasonable compromise for the time being._

_I'm glad you're making a friend in your condo building. Mrs. Foster seemed lovely when I met her briefly in passing one day. I like the image of you slipping into her condo after a long case for a chat. And home baking is always a good thing. You've always had a sweet tooth Teresa, don't try and deny it. And enjoy your garden. Gardening's supposed to be good for your health, stress-relief and the like._

_I hope Connor is still on the road to recovery (Rigsby must be enjoying actually being able to sleep again), and that Van Pelt's date isn't crazy (this time). I imagine everyone hopes that. She's due to meet a good man. I'll keep my fingers crossed._

_As for your attitude about my little present, have you even gotten it yet? Have you given it a try? Before you relegate it to a coaster, or something to shore up an unsteady coffee table, I think you should at least read a few pages of the poor man's book. I did. The prose was... startling. But, who knows, maybe the quack on the street was onto something..._

_Anyway, I suppose this letter is long enough already, and I've taken up enough of your time, so I'll stop now. Have a lovely week, Teresa._

_-Patrick_

x

Lisbon read her letter twice. It was another long one. And it was full of things she'd never expected Jane to tell her.

He wasn't the only one who'd learned things from the letters. She'd be lying if she said that she hadn't wanted to tell him things too. It was probably a bad sign that he'd needed to be on the other side of the state for that to happen, but there it was.

The details that man paid attention to...

She grabbed a piece of paper to reply.

x

_Dear Jane,_

_I'm back from my case. I'm assuming you've moved onto Vineland. The trip to San Angela seems like it was good for you, in a way. I know it can't have been easy, in spite of how you phrased things in your letter. I really am impressed with your perseverance. I'm proud of you Jane. I imagine all this might have been easier to just ignore a little while longer. But, I guess we both tried that for a while, in different ways. Maybe it is time to face it all head on._

_I hope you get something out of Vineland too. This isn't exactly how I expected you to finally deal with things, but I'm glad it seems to be working._

_Connor is right as rain again. He visited the other day and was tearing around the bullpen for a good half hour, much to Rigsby's exasperation (and everyone else's delight). Cho in particular seems to like his visits. It's sweet._

_Annie and Tommy may be coming into the city in a few weeks. We may meet up for dinner or something._

_My garden is developing a caterpillar problem. I am not pleased (and yes, I realize I've become ridiculously possessive of the stupid thing now). Mrs. Foster was telling me about this stuff that you can buy to get rid of them naturally. I'll have to look into it. They're going to kill the tomatoes at this rate, never mind all the flowers._

_Other than that, I'm good. Pretty good at least. I've been feeling a bit restless. I might take a few days off or something. Maybe that'll help. I'll keep you posted._

_I hope you're still doing well, and you found what you were looking for in Vineland. _

_Love_

_Teresa_

_P.S. As for that book you sent me, I read a few pages, and using it as a coaster's more than it's worth. The guy must've been one hell of a salesman._

x

Lisbon was about to address the letter, then she remembered the delay in the mail system. She bit her lip. He'd told her he was going to Vineland, but what if it was too much? What if he'd been and left again? She wanted him to get her letter.

She wanted to check up on him.

She wanted...

Her heart racing, Lisbon had grabbed the phone and sent the text before she could talk herself out of it. _Are you still in Vineland?_

His reply came a few minutes later. _Yes._

Lisbon sighed in something akin to relief. _Okay. I'll mail your letter there._

_Actually, can you send it to Fresno? I think I might head there tomorrow. _

Lisbon smiled, glad she'd sent the text. _Sure._

_Thanks, Lisbon. I was planning on staying here until I heard from you, but..._

The idea that he might be waiting for her made her smile wider. _Not a problem._

_There's a guy in Fresno who worked on the first Red John murder that I want to talk to._

_I understand._ Lisbon sighed, hoping he wasn't planning on tracking down every person who'd ever encountered Red John. That would take years.

_Thanks. It's just, I heard he's doing well and wanted to talk._ Before Lisbon could reply, another text appeared on the screen. _Enough about that. How was the case? I heard you solved it on the news._

Lisbon laughed. Of course he'd already heard. _ Keeping track of me via the mass media? :)_

_Maybe._

Her breath caught in her throat, and she didn't quite know what to say. _Oh._

A second later another text appeared. _Lisbon?_

She shook herself, trying to clear her head and answer his original question. _Yeah. I'm here. The case was fine. Not too bad. We solved it._

She could practically see him nodding on the other end of the phone. _Good. Now you're probably tired._

She sighed in relief, he was giving her an easy out. She knew it, and she took it. _I am._

_Okay, good night._

__But all of a sudden she couldn't just leave it like that. _Wait. You seem like you're doing okay._

It took a minute for his reply to come. _I think I am._

__She smiled again, hoping he was smiling too. _That's great Jane._

_I thought you'd be pleased._

_I am. I probably should get to bed though. _Lisbon had to admit that sleep sounded like a really good idea. She'd figure out the rest later.

_Okay._

_Good night Jane._

_Good night Teresa._

Lisbon bit her lip as she closed her phone, suddenly feeling very confused. Things may have been better, but they still weren't... ideal.

She sighed. Maybe she just needed a good night's sleep.

xxx

Lisbon didn't make a whole lot of progress sorting things out over the next few days. She threw herself into work mostly, because she'd been over it all time and time again. And there was no good solution.

Still, maybe it was time to talk to Jane about it. Maybe it was time for, well... something.

She'd been encouraging him to deal with things after all. Maybe... maybe...

She promised herself she'd bring it up in her next letter.

When Lisbon got home that day, there was a letter from Jane. Not one of the long one's she'd been getting used to lately though. Lisbon opened it with a slight frown. She hoped nothing was wrong.

X

_Dear Teresa,_

_I actually found two letters from you in Fresno when I arrived. The one you sent a couple of days ago was one of them. I'm glad you're still doing well. And I appreciate your support while I try to sort out my brain. I really do. Hearing how you're doing (and the rest of the team) is great to._

_The second letter though, was about a month old. The woman behind the desk laughingly told me that it was a good thing I'd arrived when I did to claim it, because it'd been due to be destroyed the next day. Apparently all letters sent to General Delivery are destroyed if they're unclaimed after thirty days. How many of your letters have I missed? How many have I not gotten to in time, or just driven right by? How many are sitting in soulless warehouses? In this one you told me about babysitting Connor for a few hours when Rigsby had something come up. I almost missed that story. I almost missed hearing that you were happy. What other news have I lost? What else have you tried to tell me?_

_I mean, I knew I had to be missing letters, but I never really..._

_Just how much have I missed?_

_-Jane_

x

Lisbon was blinking rapidly by the time she reached the end. She didn't have a clue what to write write in reply.

She knew what she wanted to say, but it somehow didn't seem right. Or appropriate.

She'd considered confronting him, but she didn't know if she could... if...

Maybe it was just too much of a risk. After all, _he_ was the one who'd left.

So, for the first time ever, she wasn't able to answer a letter the day that she received it.

xxx

Luckily, Lisbon had the next day off work. She still wasn't sure what to say to Jane, but at least she didn't have to go into work and pretend that everything was fine.

Instead, she decided to go shopping. Take her mind off things a little.

When she got back to her apartment, she found a letter poking out from under her door. Biting her lip, she picked it up. Jane must have been passing through Sacramento in his new mission to speak to everyone who'd ever met Red John.

Picking up the letter slowly, Lisbon realized it was obviously quite short. Even shorter than his last one had been. It probably just contained a location to send her reply to. Once she finally wrote one of course.

Sighing, she opened her door, completely expecting the obviously untouched apartment on the toher side. She unfolded her letter and headed towards her couch to read it.

She didn't quite make it.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_I love you._

_-Your Jane_

x

Before she could so much as turn around, Lisbon heard the sound of a second letter sliding under her door. She was across the room and tearing her second note out of the envelope before she even realized what she was doing. She scanned the words quickly before throwing open the door.

Jane stood in her doorway, obviously trying not to look nervous. Even though she'd known that he would be there, that he _had_ to be there, it was still somewhat surreal.

A strangled laugh bubbled up through her chest unbidden.

Jane's eyes brightened, turning from nervous to hopeful.

But before he could say so much as "Hello," Lisbon threw herself at him.

She slid her free hand along his cheek, and into his hair, kissing him.

She felt him place a hand on her hip, possibly simply as a reflex. That was when she realized that apart from that simple touch, Jane hadn't moved a muscle.

Lisbon froze. What if she'd misread this? What if he hadn't... She started to pull away.

That was when Jane sprang into action. Making a sound of something like desperation, he tightened his arm around her waist, dragging her towards him. Lisbon heard a soft thud of something hitting the floor before she felt his other hand tighten in her hair as he kissed her desperately. That was when she decided that it really didn't matter what he'd dropped.

Wrapping her other arm around his waist, Lisbon let his second letter flutter to the ground. It could wait. 

xxx

_Dear Teresa,_

_Do you think maybe you might love me too? _

_Check box one for yes, box two for no, box three for I don't know or box four for Jane I am going to punch you in the nose if you ever do anything like that again. In fact, I might do it anyway._

_-Patrick_

xxx

TBC

Author's note, while I have everyone's attention. I've decided that, after this fic is done, I will be writing scenes from Jane's POV. Scenes, not the whole fic. So if anyone has specific scenes, I'm taking requests, as a thank-you to my lovely reviewers, and because there seems to be a lot of interest for them. So, if anyone's interested, let me know in a review or a private message. That said, please request specific scenes. Don't ask for, I don't know, Jane's POV of Chapter 7. Also, I'm not guaranteeing that I'm going to fulfil every single request, but I will do my best.

Thanks!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Kinda a little overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter, to be honest. I was slightly amused that almost no one saw it coming. (I mean, I'm no judge though, seeing as I always know what's coming and that ending had been written for months...) So glad everyone enjoyed it. I hope this one lives up to everyone's expectations as a follow-up.

Chapter 18

xxx

_Dear Teresa,_

_Do you think maybe you might love me too? _

_Check box one for yes, box two for no, box three for I don't know or box four for Jane I am going to punch you in the nose if you ever do anything like that again. In fact, I might do it anyway._

_-Patrick_

xxx

She was kissing Patrick Jane.

And Patrick Jane was kissing her. Enthusiastically.

Lisbon felt his hand slip out of her hair to stroke her cheek.

He was here. He was really standing in front of her. He was really nipping lightly on her lower lip.

_Oh._

She tightened her grip around his waist, moaning softly against his mouth, and pushing closer, closer, closer...

Jane's hand slid from her waist towards her shoulder, before changing course and running down her side. She shivered.

God, he was a good kisser.

He broke away briefly to take a breath before coming back. Good. He could just stay like this, right here, right...

"Afternoon Teresa."

Lisbon froze; she felt Jane go still at exactly the same time.

It was Mrs. Foster, sounding amused. Of _course_ she sounded amused.

It was an amusing situation.

She, Teresa Lisbon, a grown woman, had just been caught, by her elderly neighbour no less, kissing a man she hadn't actually seen in the better part of six months, in her doorway. The two of them hadn't even managed to step inside the damn condo. Oops.

Lisbon buried her face in Jane's neck, mildly comforted by Jane's still-racing pulse. She put on a smile and pulled away slightly. Her smile turned more genuine when she felt Jane's grip around her waist tighten possessively. He did let her move away slightly in the end (but not too far away, to Lisbon's further delight).

"Hi Monica," Lisbon said, greeting her neighbour and sure she was blushing furiously. But she was going to make it through this. She _was_ a grown woman after all. If she wanted to kiss a ridiculously handsome man in the middle of the hallway, then that was exactly what she was going to do. Lisbon lifted her chin stubbornly (and heard Jane chuckle under his breath).

Jane wasn't the only one amused. Monica Foster turned at her doorway, eyes twinkling. "Oh, don't stop on my account," she said with a laugh. "I can't say I blame you, Teresa; he's certainly handsome enough. Although, next time you might want to step just to the other side of the door, for privacy's sake"

"Right," Lisbon muttered. To her mild irritation, it appeared that Jane was now shaking with silent laughter. She shook her head, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh herself. "Thanks," she called after Mrs. Foster who was now opening her own front door.

"I'm Patrick Jane, by the way!" Jane added suddenly, causing Lisbon to snicker.

Mrs. Foster waved a general hand in his direction, mostly ignoring him. "I'll talk to you later I'm sure, Teresa," she said, stepping into her own condo. "And for heaven's sakes, pick up those flowers before someone steps on them!" she called as she shut the door.

"Huh?" Lisbon wondered. She glanced back at Jane, who was now bent over, picking up her letter and a bouquet of flowers, both of which had obviously been dropped when she'd essentially jumped him.

Blushing all over again, Lisbon dragged him inside and shut the door behind her. She turned back towards him only to be greeted by a dozen pink roses thrust in her face (a few of the sprigs of baby's breath surrounding them now slightly crushed). Her breath hitched as she dragged her eyes upwards. "For me?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

Jane smiled until the corners of his eyes crinkled. "No, for your friend Monica out there."

Lisbon laughed, taking the flowers from him and burying her nose in them. "They're beautiful," she told him, watching him from just over her roses. He looked good. Really good, actually. Still as handsome as ever, and still in the ubiquitous three-piece suits. To be honest, she'd have missed it, vest and all, if he hadn't been wearing it. Jane hadn't changed much. His hair looked like it was a little longer than usual, definitely needed a trim. And it was definitely less carefully arranged than usual. Lisbon wondered absently if Jane was getting more casual before realizing that the cause of his hair's dishevelment was more likely her own hands running through it. Her smile widened even further at the idea.

"I'm glad you like them," Jane whispered, watching her just as closely as she was watching him, his free hand finding her hip.

"You didn't need to though," Lisbon murmured. "You already bought me flowers."

For some reason that seemed to amuse Jane even more. He leaned in almost confidentially. "Last I checked, I'm allowed to buy you flowers more than once Lisbon. Besides, that was weeks ago," he added. "And, I didn't get this."

"Didn't get what?" Lisbon asked, curiously, succumbing to the urge to bury her nose in her flowers again.

Jane shifted slightly closer. "Your smile, of course."

Lisbon's eyes widened.

Jane took advantage of her distraction to kiss her again, this time over her roses. Lisbon tried to facilitate the process as much as possible, but her flowers were kind of in the way. She could understand why he'd just let them fall earlier. They were lovely, but kind of _bulky. _Still, she didn't want to drop them a second time. That might really crush them. And they were hers and... and...

With one hand still firmly on her hip, Jane used the other to pluck the roses from her hands and place them safely on the table beside her door.

Lisbon took a second to mentally praise his observant brain, before she wrapped her now free hands around his shoulders.

A few seconds later she felt her back hit something solid, as she felt Jane's lips trailing down her neck.

Lisbon sighed, shifting closer. Well, Mrs. Foster _had_ suggested moving things to the other side of the door...

xxx

A few minutes later, Jane pulled back, slipping his arms around Lisbon's waist and pulling her away from her position pressed up against her own front door.

She sighed softly in disappointment, until she felt his lips trail along her hair as he placed a kiss next to her temple and slid his arms further around her. Grinning in sudden understanding, Lisbon tucked her head against his shoulder and hugged him back.

"I've missed you, Teresa," he whispered.

Lisbon bit her lip and tightened her arms, not quite able to answer. Instead, she just let herself enjoy the hug. It'd been months since she'd had this.

A little while later, she felt Jane shift slightly, and heard the rustling of paper.

Startled, Lisbon lifted her head to look at him.

Jane was examining his second letter to her. The one he'd picked up off the floor with her flowers what now felt like ages ago. Jane turned to her with a grin. "You didn't check anything, Lisbon. I'm hurt."

She rolled her eyes. "Just because you're a child doesn't mean I have to be."

Jane pouted slightly, "But I want an answer."

She grinned back. "I believe I gave you one."

He paused to consider that, "Well, not exactly..."

She kissed him again before he could object further. Exasperating man. Just because she hadn't checked a damn box like they were in middle school...

Some time later Jane pulled away, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "You still haven't answered me, dear."

She smirked. "And you call yourself observant..."

"Well, I mean, kissing me's all very well and good," Jane argued. "And I'm certainly not complaining. But a woman can kiss a man she's not in love with."

Lisbon laughed, "Not what I was talking about."

"The letting me in your apartment then?" Jane guessed. "The lack of punch in the nose?"

She took his hand, pulling him towards her couch. "You really are slipping."

He followed willingly. "_Teresa..."_

"What about all _my _letters?" she asked softly, pulling him down next to her.

Jane frowned. "You never told me that you loved me in your letters," he disagreed. "I'd have definitely remembered that... I mean, sure, you signed some of them '_Love Lisbon,'_ but that's just letter-writing convention. I hardly that counts as a declaration."

"Not a direct one..." Lisbon muttered.

"What?" Jane asked.

She sighed. "You were never around to tell until now. After all, there were some things you can't write in a letter."

"Like I love you?" Jane guessed.

Lisbon smirked. "You disproved that one earlier."

Jane paused to consider that. "I suppose I did."

"Hm," Lisbon hummed, dropping her head on his shoulder.

"Teresa?"

"Hm?" she asked with a foolish little smile.

"You still haven't actually answered my question," Jane reminded her.

Lisbon growled into his shoulder, suddenly answer. "Oh _no_," she muttered. "I didn't answer it in _any_ way. I was just the one who tracked you down in the first place. Drove all over the state trying to get a letter to you. And I just spent the better part of six months patiently writing you letters, _good _letters. Those took time, you know? All the while, staring at a map, trying to figure out what sometimes completely _random_ direction you'd decide to drive in that week. I was always supportive, always there for you. I never _once_ asked you to come back just because I was lonely and wanted to see you. Because I _knew_ you needed time to figure things out. I worried about you, out there in your damn car that was one good bump away from just falling apart. I went out on a date a couple of months ago. Did you know that? It was the next best thing to a disaster, by the way. Completely pointless. And all your fault. And now you have the _nerve_ to tell _me_ that I didn't answer your question. Don't even talk to me right now. You know what?" Lisbon demanded, suddenly leaning across a rather shocked-looking Jane, wrenching open the drawer of the table next to her couch and grabbing a pen; she snatched the letter from his hand, added two rather large (and also rather forceful) checkmarks. Then she dropped the pen back into the drawer, shoved the letter back into Jane's hands, and burrowing back against his side, all the while muttering under her breath about stupid, unperceptive men.

Jane stared at the letter in his hands in shock, now complete with checkmarks in the two outermost boxes.

"_Teresa_. Are you..." he faltered.

"Sure that I'll punch you in the nose if you ever do anything like that again?" Lisbon asked. "Absolutely."

"No, I meant, the other," Jane said softly. "Are you..."

"If you finish that sentence with '_sure_,' then I will actually punch you in the nose," Lisbon warned, looking up at him.

Jane shut his mouth abruptly.

She dropped her forehead to his shoulder. "I'm sure," she whispered. "I don't care if it's ludicrous. I don't care if it's insane. I don't care... I..."

"Okay," he whispered, tilting her head up to kiss her quickly.

When she broke away, Lisbon sent him a quick smile, before looking away, playing with the edge of his jacket. "So," she asked brightly. "How long are you planning on staying in Sacramento?"

She risked a glance up at his face which was just time to see his answering frown. She looked away again. Obviously she'd hit a sore spot. "I mean, I assume this is a stop on your trips talking to Red John's victims and contacts... So I was just wondering when you were planning on heading out."

Lisbon shut her eyes, already dreading his answer. She felt Jane shrug against her cheek. "Well, how long are you planning on staying in town?" he asked lightly

She looked up at him again, this time incredulously. "Jane," she said dryly. "I _live_ here and I have a pretty good job here, so I was thinking probably permanently.".

Lisbon felt his arm creep around her waist, drawing her slightly closer to him. "Okay then," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the top of her head..

Now it was Lisbon's turn to be shocked. She pushed away from him slightly, her eyes wide. "_What?_ You mean... Jane, are you..."

"If you finish that sentence with 'sure' I'm going to punch _you_ in the nose," Jane said, his tone teasing, but his eyes serious.

"Jane..." she whispered, before her voice just gave out.

"But to answer your question," Jane continued, his eyes intense and completely focussed on hers. "Am I sure that I want to spend the rest of my life in the same city as you, whatever city that happens to be? Why yes, Teresa, I am very sure."

She bit her lip. "Don't say that..." she ordered, her voice wavering.

The command seemed to surprise him, "_What?_"

But Lisbon just shook her head frantically. "If you don't... I mean it Jane. Don't say that if you don't mean it. Just _don't. _ I can't... You can't say that and then in six months leave on me again. If you do, I'll..."

He kissed her.

She let him.

At length.

Because at that moment, making out with Jane on her living room couch seemed like the only sensible thing to do, under the circumstances.

Several minutes later, when he was trailing his lips along the jaw line, Jane apparently decided he wanted to continue their conversation. "You'll what, dear?"

"Hm?" Lisbon murmured.

"What will you do if I disappear on you again?" he clarified.

Lisbon stiffened immediately.

"I'm not _going to_," he hastened to explain. "Absolutely no intention of it, dearest. I'm just curious."

Her hands tightened in his collar, meeting his eyes and holding them, her voice low, deliberately menacing. "If you leave after telling me something like that... I won't care whether you need space, or time, or whatever. I won't respect your wishes. I will hunt you down, come after you. I know your friends. I know your habits. I will find you, Jane, and when I do..."

"You'll punch me in the nose?" Jane suggested helpfully.

"If I don't just shoot you," Lisbon growled. "Or yell at you and just generally beat the crap out of you."

"And then drag me back to Sacramento?" Jane asked. Lisbon had expected his voice to sound amused, but instead he sounded hopeful.

She nodded furiously. "Absolutely. If I don't have to hide your body."

Jane pulled her back into a hug. She felt him sigh against her hair, "Okay."

"_Okay?_"

"Mmhm," Jane murmured near her ear. "Seems perfectly reasonable to me. Besides," he added, trailing his hand from just to the side of her knee, to her waist. "Does it seem like I want to leave you?"

Lisbon leant into his touch, "Well, not right this second..."

Jane growled in sudden frustration and kissed her.

She laughed, using his shoulder to pull him closer.

"You're very forceful, Teresa," Jane told her.

She smacked him in the arm.

"Owww," Jane moaned.

"Oh, you big baby."

He kissed her again.

Lisbon sighed. "You're really sure about this?" she whispered.

Instead of carrying out his earlier threats, Jane slid his lips to her ear. "I used to stop at every post office I could think of as I was driving around," he murmured. "While you were staring at a map trying to figure out where I'd be, I was inquiring after post offices. Trying to pretend I wasn't disappointed when there was nothing there. I have your letters all tucked around my car, the one you make fun of so much. I don't know how many times I read some of them. Then all of a sudden, they weren't enough. So obviously I needed to move to Sacramento."

"Easy as that?" she asked with a choked laugh.

Jane shrugged. "Well, no. I don't imagine it'll be entirely easy. There'll be an adjustment period. I'm sure you'll want to yell at me again at some later date, which is fine. I'll have to figure out exactly how to occupy my time, of course. I'm definitely not ready to show up at the front doors of the CBI tomorrow, inquiring about a job."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Lisbon murmured. "Although, I wouldn't mind seeing Wainwright's face if you did..."

"I'm not ruling it out for the future," Jane continued. "And yes, I imagine I may want to talk to a few more people about Red John. But I figured, I could make day trips, come back to Sacramento in the evening, see you. I'm just staying at motels anyway. I can sort though things in Sacramento. I'll do it while you're at work."

Lisbon laughed. "That sounds pretty good."

Jane took her hand, running his thumb along the back of it. "I admit, I don't have all the details worked out, but we don't have to talk about it all right now."

"No," Lisbon agreed with a shake of her head. "We don't."

Jane grinned. "We can talk about something else though. Whatever you want."

Lisbon grinned. "Whatever _I _want?"

Jane nodded cheerfully. "How was your day?"

She blinked at him. "You want to hear about..."

Jane smiled, "You were off, weren't you? So you weren't at work. Did you just finish a case? How's Connor doing? Is Van Pelt continuing on her path of figuring out her life? Is the new man relatively sane? What's Cho reading? How's your condo gardening project? Have you heard from Annie?"

Lisbon just stared at him.

He swept his thumb along the back of her hand again. "I told you, I want more than just letters."

Her heart gave a single great thud. "Do you want tea?" she asked softly.

Jane's smile lit up the room, "Absolutely."

Lisbon stood, slipping away from him. "I can make it," she assured him, when she heard him stand behind her.

He just shrugged.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Then she remembered. "Oh, my flowers!" she exclaimed. "I should put them in water."

Jane grinned. "Do you want me to make the tea while you do that?"

Lisbon whipped around. "No!" she said, just a little too loudly. "I want to make it. I can... I can..."

Jane held up his hands defensively, seeming to understand. "Okay," he assured her. "You can make the tea. I'll make it next time."

Lisbon nodded. "Okay."

She picked up her flowers and carried them into her kitchen.

Jane followed.

Lisbon sighed. "I told you, I've got this."

"I'm only here to keep you company," he assured her, leaning up against the counter, just within reach.

Lisbon sighed and turned to put the kettle on. "Do me a favour and grab the vase from that cupboard behind you, then," she murmured.

Jane complied.

Filling the vase with water, Lisbon began arranging her flowers.

Half a second later, she felt Jane's fingers trailing lightly along the small of her back.

Biting her lip, Lisbon stood on her tiptoes to reach a pair of mugs form the cupboard next to her. She opened her fridge, and added milk to one of the cups. Her hand was shaking by the time she closed the door.

Before Jane could say anything, she turned and buried her head in his jacket.

"Missed you," she whispered.

"I know," he assured her. "Believe me, I know."

"Okay," she muttered, suddenly understanding all too well why Jane hadn't wanted to wait for her on the couch. Comfortable as it was, it was also all the way in the other room. She let herself relax into his arms.

When she heard the kettle boil, Lisbon blinked rapidly and turned to make their tea.

Jane helped her carry it back to the couch.

"I think I'm getting the caterpillars in my garden under control," Lisbon said suddenly.

Jane grinned. "_Your_ garden?" he teased.

She smiled back. "I told you I was getting possessive."

"And now you're showing those caterpillars who's boss," Jane surmised.

"Absolutely!" she told him enthusiastically, raising her mug in a mock toast.

Jane leaned back against the couch cushions, angling his body towards hers. "Tell me about the battle then," he said.

Lisbon leaned back into her own corner of the couch, only too happy to comply. "So it started a few weeks ago..."

xxx

The two of them were on their second pot of tea and debating what to order for dinner, when Lisbon's phone rang.

"Aunt Reese?" she heard Annie on the other end.

"Hi Annie!" Lisbon said with a smile. She noticed Jane grin too. "How are you?" she asked.

"Fine," Annie assured her. "I'm fine. It's just..."

Lisbon sat up straight, suddenly concerned. "What is it? Is it your Dad?"

"Nooo..." Annie said slowly. "It's..."

"Yes?"

"Well, it's Jane," Annie admitted. "He sent me a couple of text messages today, and they're really weird. Something about hearing something different about him over the next few days..."

"Annie," Lisbon tried to interrupt, understanding Jane's smirk all too well now.

"I mean, I'm sure it's nothing," Annie tried to assure her. "There was just one about him being in a different place, and I don't know..."

"Annie," Lisbon tried again, trying to ignore the self-satisfied looking man on the other end of her couch.

"I'm sure he's _fine_," Annie repeated. "It's just weird. And I thought maybe you had heard something because, well..."

Shaking her head, Lisbon handed Jane the phone. Explanations would be so much faster this way.

He smirked, taking it. "How's it going Annie?"

He paused, obviously waiting for her reply. "That's me," he said after a moment.

Lisbon listened in amusement to Jane's half of the conversation. His remarks weren't long, but he assured Annie that he was visiting, for a length of time dependent on Lisbon herself. He seemed quite sure she could run him out of town if she tried, a sentiment she enthusiastically seconded. She settled back against the couch with her tea as she listened to Jane banter with her niece. He was being deliberately vague with his answers, something Annie was almost certainly calling him on.

Lisbon couldn't bring herself to be annoyed with him though. She was too happy. Particularly since it sounded like Annie was more than holding her own in the debate.

After a second, Jane handed her the phone again. "Hey Kid," Lisbon greeted with a grin, smirking when she noticed Jane's finger drifting towards her shoulder.

"Jane's at your house," Annie stated bluntly.

"Yes, he is," Lisbon agreed.

"Oh," Annie murmured. "Is that... I mean, are you..."

"Yeah," Lisbon admitted. "It's good."

She saw Jane grin, out of the corner of her eye. His fingers slipped into the ends of her hair.

"Well, okay then," Annie agreed. "Good. But if he decides to be stupid and randomly starts driving around again, tell him not to bother texting me."

"Oh, that'll be the least of his problems, believe me," Lisbon assured her.

"_Awesome!"_ Annie agreed. "Then let me know if you need backup."

Lisbon laughed. "Will do."

Annie laughed. "Okay, well I should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing."

"Drinking tea," Lisbon supplied dryly.

"Okay," Annie agreed. "Night Aunt Reese. I'll call you later."

"Night," Lisbon murmured, hanging up the phone.

"She threaten me if I decided to be an idiot again?" Jane asked cheerfully.

"Pretty much," Lisbon agreed. "She told me to tell you not to bother texting you if you were. She's on my side."

Jane nodded. "That seems fair. You want to order Thai food now?"

"Sure," she agreed, only too happy to prolong his visit over dinner. Lisbon fiddled with the phone. There was really only so long things could be prolonged though. And she wasn't anywhere ready to give him up.

"What is it, Teresa?" Jane prompted.

"Have you checked into a hotel yet?" she asked.

Jane froze in obvious surprise.

"I mean, if you haven't, you could sleep in my spare room," Lisbon assured him quickly, her heart racing. "You don't have to... but it's getting late, and I mean... I just thought..."

"Okay." Jane agreed quickly.

"Okay?" she double-checked breathlessly.

He grinned. "If it's not too much trouble."

She ducked her head, smiling up at him. "No," she assured him. "It's no problem at all."

"Okay then," Jane agreed.

"It's definitely no trouble for me at least," Lisbon continued. "I don't know what you're... Hey, what _are_ you going to do tomorrow?" she asked. "Now that you're not driving around aimlessly anymore?"

Jane shrugged. "I don't know. This trip was particularly spontaneous. I don't have any set plans. Maybe just get settled into the city again, re-orient yourself. What're you doing?"

Lisbon laughed. "I actually have tomorrow off. I was thinking of going into the office in the morning anyway..."

"Of course you were," Jane muttered.

"But I could be convinced not to," Lisbon trailed off suggestively.

Jane grinned, inching further into her personal space than he had been before. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, placing a light kiss on her cheek. "I think you should take the morning off, Teresa," he murmured.

Lisbon smiled. "Do you?"

"Mmhm," he rumbled against her ear, stroking a hand down her back. "We could spend the day together, the _whole _day."

Lisbon bit her lip. He was certainly very convincing. "Are you going to show me a good time?" she whispered.

"Of course," Jane promised. "Remember, you gave me a book of California's greatest sights. Some of those are in Sacramento. We could go to some."

"We could..." Lisbon agreed.

"We could go to the good coffee shop near the court house," Jane added, placing a kiss o her temple. "Or that little Indian place you like for lunch. Whatever you want."

"Hmm," she hummed, leaning closer to him.

"I haven't seen you in months, Teresa," Jane reminded her.

"And whose fault was that?" she demanded, pulling back slightly.

"Mine," he agreed readily, not letting her move too far. "Let me make it up to you," he wheedled, drawing circles on her hipbone with one hand, while the other ran through her hair.

Lisbon had to admit he made a compelling argument. Only problem was, it was almost too good. She didn't want it to end quite yet.. "Hmmm," she hummed against his ear.

"You know you don't actually _need_ to go into the office not to," Jane continued, his lips centimeters from the skin of her neck, just below her ear. "In fact people have probably told you not to. And if I'm sleeping in your spare room, it only makes sense for you to take the morning off."

"Does it?" Lisbon asked.

Jane nodded. "I'll make you breakfast!" he promised, pulling back to meet her eyes. "And homemade breakfast always tastes better when you have time to enjoy it."

"I think you're vastly overestimating what's in my cupboards at the moment," Lisbon murmured.

He laughed. "It'll be a challenge then!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you curious about how I'll meet it?"

"You'll probably just go try and con some food off Mrs. Foster," Lisbon muttered.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Jane admitted. "Come on , Lisbon. You know you want to."

She smiled. "Okay."

He kissed her quickly in victory.

She leaned her forehead against his.

"Do you have any other pressing questions before you order dinner?" Jane wondered.

Lisbon hesitated.

Jane sighed. "Out with it."

She bit her lip. "Now that you're back..."

"Yes?"

"Will you still write me letters?" she wondered.

Jane's smile was devastatingly slow. "I started writing to you while we were working in the same building, Lisbon. I'm not going to let a silly little thing like being in the same city as you stop our correspondence. Now we'll just save money on stamps."

She kissed him impulsively. "I need to add to my collection."

"You collect stamps?" Jane asked, surprised.

She shook her head. "No, letters."

He stared at her.

"I kept mine too," she whispered.

A hand in her hair was suddenly drawing her in for another kiss.

"Any more pressing questions?" Jane asked when she pulled away.

Lisbon shook her head slowly. "I think that's it for now. You?"

Jane shook his head.

Lisbon grinned. "Then I guess I should see about the Thai food."

xxx

TBC

Just the epilogue/last chapter now...

Remember, I am still taking requests for scenes from Jane's POV.

And oh look! It's the final deleted scene: Jane's phone conversation with Annie. Enjoy.

The two of them were on their second pot of tea and debating what to order for dinner, when Lisbon's phone rang.

"Aunt Reese?" she heard Annie on the other end.

"Hi Annie!" Lisbon said with a smile. She noticed Jane grin too. "How are you?" she asked.

"Fine," Annie assured her. "I'm fine. It's just..."

Lisbon sat up straight, suddenly concerned. "What is it? Is it your Dad?"

"Nooo..." Annie said slowly. "It's..."

"Yes?"

"Well, it's Jane," Annie admitted. "He sent me a couple of text messages today, and they're really weird. Something about hearing something different about him over the next few days..."

"Annie," Lisbon tried to interrupt, understanding Jane's smirk all too well now.

"I mean, I'm sure it's nothing," Annie tried to assure her. "There was just one about him being in a different place, and I don't know..."

"Annie," Lisbon tried again.

"I'm sure he's _fine_," Annie repeated. "It's just weird. And I thought maybe you had heard something because, well..."

Shaking her head, Lisbon hadn't Jane the phone.

He smirked, taking it. "How's it going Annie?"

There was a brief pause. "Mr. Jane?"

"That's me." Jane agreed.

"You're... you're... You're at Aunt Reese's," Annie sputtered.

Jane nodded. "Yes I am."

"You're visiting Aunt Reese?" Annie double-checked.

Jane shrugged. "Yes, I suppose I am visiting."

"For how long?" Annie asked warily. She'd learned long ago not to quite trust Patrick Jane.

"Well, that depends on her," Jane said truthfully.

Annie sighed. She hadn't been asking how long until Aunt Reese kicked him out of her apartment. (She suspected that would take quite a while.) "I meant how long are you staying in Sacramento!"

"That also depends on her," Jane assured the teenager.

Annie scowled. "Don't be an idiot."

"You don't think she could have me run out of town?" Jane wondered. He was absolutely certain Lisbon would be able to pull that off all too easily. He hadn't exactly made a lot of friends among the Sacramento law enforcement community. Lisbon would have no trouble rallying people around her cause if she wanted to get rid of him.

Lisbon apparently agreed with his assessment, nodding enthusiastically from her end of the couch.

It seemed that Annie agreed as well, "Fair point."

"I thought so," Jane admitted.

He heard another huff of annoyance. "Don't sound so pleased with yourself."

"I was thinking permanently," Jane admitted, glancing over in time to see Lisbon's beaming smile.

"Permanently sounding pleased with yourself?" Annie demanded sarcastically. "That sounds awesome."

"No, I meant the other thing," Jane clarified.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Took you long enough," Annie insulted after a minute.

"Hey!" Jane objected, ignoring the fact that Lisbon was still smirking to herself.

He was getting even less sympathy on the other end of the line. Jane mentally reminded himself not to take on both Lisbon women at once. He doubted he'd come out of that well. "You deserved it," Annie was insisting."So you just deliberately sent me weird sounding text messages to mess with me?"

"Might have done," Jane admitted.

"Idiot," Annie insulted again.

Jane grinned. Genetics was a wonderful thing. "That's almost exactly what your aunt said."

"Good." Annie concluded. " Can I talk to Aunt Reese again?"

"Sure," Jane agreed. "Here she is." He handed Lisbon the phone.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: And here it is, the end (I'll be catching up on review replies starting tomorrow. I haven't had time this weekend). This chapter was supposed to be a short epilogue. Yeah, that didn't happen. Oh well. Thank you to everyone who reviewed along the way. Hope you enjoy the wrap-up!

Chapter 19

xxx

Lisbon arrived at the CBI bright and early. She grinned to herself for no real reason as she walked by the still-empty bullpen. Her team would be arriving soon enough.

She wondered if any of them would question her decision to actually take all of yesterday off. She doubted they would. Her team weren't exactly the prying type; she'd certainly never encouraged that. Even if they might be curious about the change in behaviour from her usual.

Lisbon felt her grin widening as she stepped into her office. The change in behaviour had certainly been worth it.

After he'd appeared up on her doorstep, she and Jane had stayed up till long after midnight, curled up on her couch, drinking tea, and talking. Jane had seemed determined to hear every story of hers from the last few months, either that or tell his own (although there were more than a few times when conversation had been pushed to the back-burner in favour of communication that was a little more non-verbal). It'd been wonderful, but completely surreal. A part of her still couldn't quite believe he was back. Lisbon was pretty sure Jane couldn't quite believe it either. He certainly hadn't moved to end late-night story time, at least not until he'd noticed her eyelids start to droop. Lisbon remembered trying to protest that she wasn't tired, but he hadn't believed her.

She'd left him reluctantly at the door of her spare room. Not leaving him had certainly been a tempting idea, but given how surreal everything still felt... She hadn't wanted to jump into something too quickly, upset what still felt like a fairly delicate balance.

So she'd gotten into her own bed, alone, letting the knowledge that Jane, instead of being halfway across the state, was only one room over lull her to sleep.

She'd woken to the smell of coffee. Freshly made coffee. Close by. And that had just been the start of the day...

xxx

Lisbon opened her eyes blearily to find a mug sitting on her bedside table, still steaming. She must have just missed Jane when he snuck into her bedroom put it there.

Not normally much of a morning person, Lisbon couldn't resist a smile. Because Jane hadn't only left the coffee. There was a letter beside it, written on her own damn note paper.

She chuckled. Because honestly, what else would Jane have written her letter on?

Lisbon sat up, made herself comfortable against her pillows, took a sip of coffee, and began to read.

x

_Dear Lisbon,_

_Good morning sleepyhead!_

_I hope you weren't expecting a sentimental greeting, dear, now that I've declared my love openly. Something about your eyes reminding me of limpid pools I could get lost in, or some such silliness. I will not be writing you lines and lines of saccharine nonsense, so you may as well get that idea out of your head right now. I like to think that our correspondence has standards, and they're higher than that. You do look adorable when you're asleep though, completely charming..._

_Anyway, I'm making you breakfast, downstairs, slaving away on your stove. For you, my dear. And can I just say, you're lucky that there's a fruit market open in the early morning less than a block from your condo, or there would have been no strawberries for you on your pancakes! Also, the state of kitchen wasn't as bad as you led me to believe last night, Lisbon. Not that I really thought it was. You're far too practical for that. I'm not saying there's a lot of variety, but your cupboards are hardly bare._

_Back to my point though, I'm making you breakfast, but feel free to take your time. It is your day off after all. If you want to sleep in a little, that's fine. I can keep the pancakes warm in the oven. And I can always make you fresh coffee. (Although, if you stay upstairs too long, I may get bored or lonely and come and find you.)_

_I'm very glad you've decided to take the day off Lisbon. I planned it all out, before I went to bed, if you've no objections. You'll like it though. It's going to be a surprise, so I'm not going to tell you about it here, but trust me. Just trust me._

_I'll tell you all about it when you come downstairs, when you're ready._

_Till then, have a lovely time sleeping in..._

_Oh, it's no use. Would you like me to write you a love letter, Lisbon? The mood I'm in, it would take very little encouragement (or provocation, whichever you prefer). Really very little. Maybe you do, secretly, want someone to write you a very sentimental love letter. Just like you secretly want to have an excuse to dress up like a princess and have everyone fawn all over you... Now there's an idea. I'll have to think more on this. If you have any thoughts, feel free to share them._

_You have no idea how much self control it's taking right now not to wake you up. I'd better stop writing and get back to your breakfast, before I do just that._

_Love Jane_

x

Lisbon realized she was grinning like an idiot again. She couldn't help it. Not after that letter. And not with Jane downstairs, making her breakfast.

Biting her lip, Lisbon considered the letter, then, before she could talk herself out of, she'd found a notepad and a pen and was scribbling down a reply. After all, with Jane making her such a lovely breakfast, it wouldn't do to go downstairs empty-handed.

x

_Dear Patrick,_

_I'm not writing a lengthy sentimental greeting whatever you say. So don't even think about it. I'd feel too ridiculous. You can do what you like in your letters. I'm afraid I'm going to be boring and sensible._

_Wouldn't me telling you to write me a love letter somewhat defeat the purpose? I'm just saying, if you have to request a love letter, it seems to lose some of its appeal. Please tell me you weren't standing in my room watching me sleep though. That image isn't charming; it's a bit creepy._

_I certainly don't need a love letter. They are a bit silly, you're right. And there is something a little bit absurd about you starting that start of thing now. We've been writing to each other for months, and we've known each other how long? Besides, you've already told me that you loved me (and then, like a child, all but forced me to fill in a questionnaire with respect to my own feelings on the subject, not that I mind you knowing them, not at all... but... oh, never mind). Are you really going to start adding an overly sentimental tone to our correspondence now?_

_Breakfast smells lovely, by the way. And the coffee was very good. I hope you slept well. I slept like the dead, I admit. I guess I did need that morning off._

_I'm very glad that you stayed last night. I'm very glad that you're here. It's all so fast, and yet not at the same time. I can't explain it. The absolute last thing I was expecting when I got home last night was to find a letter from you tucked under my door, and then you on the other side. But it was such a nice surprise. Really._

_There are so many things I forgot to ask you last night. Have you still been reading? Do you have any favourite sights in California from your travels? Will you go and see The Avengers with me? I want to see it. I'm sure I'm missing some, but I guess I don't have to think of them all now._

_In fact, I guess I could walk downstairs and ask you. Maybe I will. Maybe I just want to see you. I can give you this letter at the same time._

_Love Teresa_

x

Lisbon folded her letter with satisfaction. There. She could picture Jane's smile when she handed it to him, remembered the way his eyes used to twinkle over the shared secret whenever she slipped a letter into his jacket pocket. It wasn't something she'd been confident of ever seeing again, but she would, and soon...

She could hear the sounds of Jane clanging away in her kitchen. He really was making her breakfast. Lisbon took a deep breath, suddenly a little overwhelmed. He was really still there. Shaking her head to clear it, she got out of bed. She was not staying up here alone. She was not going to sit there and pick this apart and worry. Jane was here, he loved her, and she loved him. She was going to go downstairs, and have her pancakes, and kiss him, and...

Lisbon paused, glancing down at her somewhat unflattering sleepwear. She was sure her hair looked interesting too. She scowled. Jane would probably look _perfect. _Jerk. Okay, new plan. She'd have a shower first, then she'd go downstairs and see him.

xxx

Dressed casually in jeans and what she thought was a rather flattering v-necked red shirt, Lisbon walked into her kitchen a little while later. Jane's back was to her as he fiddled with a dial on her stove. Probably trying to make sure his pancakes didn't burn. Lisbon was trying to decide how to announce her presence, when Jane seemed to sense it. He turned quickly, smiling broadly the second he saw her.

Lisbon knew her answering smile was at least as big, but decided she didn't care. He looked really good, standing in her kitchen, wearing most of a three-piece suit (no jacket), with a dish towel tossed carelessly over one shoulder.

"Morning," was about all she had time to say, before Jane strode across the room and kissed her.

Lisbon was suddenly very glad she'd taken the time to shower and brush her teeth.

"Morning," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Morning," she said again. "You were really serious about making me breakfast."

Jane frowned briefly, but it didn't last. "I wanted breakfast. With you. Did you doubt me?" he asked half-seriously.

Lisbon bit her lip, shaking her head. Then she reached into her pocket, removed her letter and with a knowing smile, slipped into his vest pocket.

"That's very cruel, you know," Jane murmured, watching her fingers in something near fascination, as she tucked the letter away from view.

"Hm?" Lisbon murmured.

"Making me choose between your letter and you," he explained. "I find myself torn between wanting to read your letter and wanting to have breakfast."

Lisbon laughed. "Well, I guess that's just a dilemma you'll have to solve on your own."

"Doesn't sound like much of a dilemma," Jane muttered, pulling her close. He kissed her again.

"Thought you said you wanted breakfast," Lisbon murmured against his lips.

"I want a lot of things," Jane growled, kissing her quickly, before breaking away with a soft groan. "But you're right, we should have breakfast," he told her, taking two large steps away. "Now that I've got it practically made."

Lisbon smirked, then rolled her eyes as he pulled out a chair for her at her own kitchen table. Still, she took the offered chair, and to Jane's obvious delight, let him serve her.

Her face lit up when she realized he'd made her chocolate-chip pancakes, something Jane teased her rather mercilessly about. The teasing lasted the entire meal, and beyond.

After helping tidy up her kitchen, Lisbon put herself in Jane's hands for the day. She hadn't had any specific plans anyway, so why not?

Jane, it turned out did. Even if he had just made them the night before after she'd gone to bed. He took her to an art gallery, where they wandered around, in no real hurry. Lisbon wasn't sure how Jane had guessed, but she'd never actually been there before, despite living in the city for over a decade. Then, they went for lunch, at one of the little places near the courthouse where they'd always used to. After that, Jane had threaded his arm in hers, and taken her for a walk in the park. She'd pulled him down under a tree, and though he'd complained half-heartedly about his suit, he'd gone willingly. Particularly when she'd leaned her head on his shoulder, and murmured something about taking a nap.

An hour or so later, they were heading off for tea at Jane's favourite tea place (where the owner had recognized Jane on sight, and in honour of his return given them free scones). The pair spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, popping in and out of shops, before an early dinner and the movies, where a grinning Jane informed her they were seeing The Avengers. (Lisbon assumed he'd read her letter while she'd napped in the park). He'd very reluctantly dropped her off at her apartment a few hours later (although not without an extended goodbye, thankfully this time, on the other side of her front door). Jane had assured her he had a motel room waiting for him (Lisbon suspected it'd been waiting the night before too, and had been unused after invitation to spend the night, but she didn't mention that).

She'd been highly tempted to ask him to stay a second time, but by unspoken agreement (and the same instinct that had kept Jane in the spare room the night before), he left before her resolve completely crumbled. It was all too new still, and unbelievably overwhelming.

Still, it was with a fair bit of regret that she'd watched him walk away.

The regret hadn't lasted very long though. Because she knew she'd be seeing him again soon.

xxx

Lisbon dropped her things off in her office and turned on her computer. As she took off her jacket, she noticed something poking out of the pocket.

Incredulously, she pulled out a letter. She had no idea when Jane had put it there. It must have been just before he'd left, because she'd have found it before now if it had been earlier. And she'd been reasonably distracted with his goodbye at that point, so that would explain it.

Lisbon smiled. Apparently, while she'd slept Jane had been busy in the park. It was the only time he could have possibly written the letter. She didn't bother wondering where he'd gotten the paper from.

x

_Dear Teresa,_

_You might decide to be sensible in your letters, but I can assure you, that you won't be boring. None of your letters have ever been boring. In fact, they're positively full of you, always. Your personality, your passion, your tenacity and your wit practically jumped off the page. If I tried very hard, I could almost picture you, almost pretend that you were with me. Almost._

_I think I was probably at least half in love with you before we started corresponding. In fact, I was probably all the way there, without realizing it. But even if I hadn't been, if all I really had felt for you was friendship, I'd have fallen in love with you thanks to those letters alone. I told you once that you write a lovely letter, Teresa. And unlike everyone else, you didn't give up on me. My lovely, loyal Lisbon. _

_Normally, this would be the section of a letter where I protest my unworthiness, and curse myself for daring to even write to a goddess such as yourself, but I thought I'd skip that section. Neither of us would like it much, I don't think. I like writing to you too much to think that, and you told me that you like receiving the letters. So while you are a much better person than I am (don't scowl, Teresa, if we took a poll of our joint acquaintance you'd come out on top every time), I'm not going to apologize for writing to you._

_By the way, yes, I am writing you a love letter, dearest. I thought I'd give it a try, see how it goes, and see how you like it. (Maybe try to get you to miss me a little while you're at the office, or at least keep me in your thoughts. After all, I figure if I'm going to do the whole traditional love letter route, I may as well do the thing well.)_

_You needn't feel any pressure to respond in kind. I just wanted to try it as an experiment. It's surprisingly easy Teresa. And I have to say, now seems like the perfect time to start this type of correspondence. What better time than after making a declaration openly? I couldn't very well start writing you love letters before I told you I was in love with you. I'm just saying. Practically, it wouldn't work._

_Although, love letters are no place for practicality (perhaps I'm not writing a very good one after all – forgive me love, I'll get better). So instead of discussing practicalities, I'll go back to discussing you, the object of my affection. And you are the object of my affection. When I crept into your room yesterday morning to leave you your coffee, it was all I could do not to crawl in bed with you. And yes, I did take a minute to watch you sleep. No one could possibly blame me for that. You looked so peaceful, so soft, and delicate, and warm. I could picture it, me crawling into your bed, wrapping an arm around you, you turning, still mostly asleep and cuddling against me, murmuring sleepily. And I'd have been powerless not to touch you then, running my hand through your hair (you've lovely hair, by the way dear), along your back, pulling you closer, something that in my fantasy you certainly didn't object to._

_Oh, I wanted that, dear. But I knew that if I carried out my little fantasy, there'd be no making you breakfast, and quite possibly none of the other things I had planned for the day. And I had promised you breakfast, and a lovely day out, and I wanted that too. I wouldn't trade our breakfast, dear. Not for anything. Not with the way you were smiling at me across your kitchen table, Teresa. You make me smile, you always have. There will be time for lazy mornings together later (I hope). There will be time for so many things, love. Anyway, you're cuddled up against me now, taking a nap in the park. It's just lucky that your head is on my left shoulder, not my right, or writing this would be impossible, not without disturbing you. And I don't want to do that. _

_You asked me about my favourite places to visit in California in your last letter. I don't want to tell you about them; I want to show you. We could go, together. On your days off of course. It would be so much better than simply telling you the stories, don't you think? I think I should tell you, I'm going to be trying to take up as much of your time as you'll let me, Teresa. I've half a mind to spoil you, while I'm at it. Just a little._

_I suppose I should finish up. I've been at this for a while, and with mixed success. I haven't even included a lengthy description of the beauty of your eyes. They're lovely, dearest. I don't think I could describe them accurately, alas. I'll have to work on that too. And I plan to. I've half a mind to woo you. Just to see what you'd do._

_Think of me dear,_

_Love Jane_

_P.S. So what did you think? Not bad right? But I still think I need a bit of practice. I'll work on it. Dinner later?_

x

Lisbon stared at the sheet of paper in her hand incredulously, her heart beating a little too fast, not sure whether to laugh or... something else. He was actually insane. What a love letter. Half genuine emotion, half ridiculous narrative, and just, well, one hundred percent Jane.

Lisbon could still feel the blush on her cheeks and was rather glad that she was the first one in that morning. She, she... No one in the world could have written her that letter, no one else would have ever thought to. No one, other than Jane.

And she loved it.

Glancing around her office, Lisbon made up her mind, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She bit her lip. It'd been so long since she'd written a letter here. She'd been writing them on her couch for so long. It was strange and familiar all at the same time.

Just like Jane suddenly being back.

x

_Dear Patrick,_

_I'm sure it won't surprise you to learn that this letter won't be full of pet names an d overly sentimental expressions. I won't be calling you pumpkin, or sweetums, or baby, or muffin, or anything like that. I'd feel far too absurd. And I'm not going to start extolling your many virtues in print form (this letter'd be awfully short if I did)._

_But I will tell you that I love you._

_I realized through the letters too. I don't know how long it's been, but I realized a few months ago, I think. It took me a little longer to admit it to myself, of course. I'm a bit stubborn that way._

_I was so worried about you, and always so glad to get your letters. Those often cheerful, often charming letters from my best friend. Of course, they weren't all wonderful, but I still wouldn't have traded them._

_Your last letter was completely ridiculous by the way. But, I suppose I wouldn't mind if you wanted to practice writing love letters. I suppose that might be okay._

_Just not all the time, okay? That would be strange. But maybe sometimes... _

_And of course dinner tonight. If I haven't heard from you before then, I'll call you. We can talk about our little trips around California._

_I suppose I should get back to work now. But never fear, I imagine I probably will still think of you from time to time._

_Love Teresa_

x

Lisbon did get back to work. There hadn't been anything all that pressing, which was lucky, since she knew she was a little distracted. Not so distracted that she couldn't work, but slightly. Her team hadn't mentioned anything, so she figured it wasn't too bad.

She was out in the bullpen, asking Van Pelt a question about one of her files, when all of a sudden the woman froze, mid-sentence.

Lisbon frowned in surprise, until she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Cho and Rigsby had stilled as well, and all three were staring at the doorway. Lisbon grinned, realizing what the distraction was. She spun around immediately. "I was wondering if we'd be seeing you today," she told a smug-looking Jane.

He answered her smile with one of his own. "Somehow I didn't think you'd be surprised when I showed up. Thought I'd drop by for a visit. Hi guys!" he greeted the team.

Cho was the first to react. "Hi Jane," he said. "Good to see you."

"Uh, yeah," Rigsby agreed with a grin, as he stood. "Hey man."

Van Pelt was out of her chair first. "It's really great to see you, Jane," she agreed, giving him a hug.

Lisbon stepped back, watching the four exchange hugs and other greetings as Jane tried to answer Van Pelt and Rigsby's flurry of questions. After a few seconds Lisbon realized Cho was standing beside her. She glanced up at him inquiringly.

"You knew Jane was back in town," Cho stated. It wasn't a question.

Lisbon smiled softly. "Yes," she admitted.

Cho nodded, "But you didn't say anything."

Lisbon shook her head. She didn't know why exactly. But she'd wanted to let Jane make that move. "I wanted to let him tell you he was back. Besides, I figured he might want to surprise you."

Cho acknowledged that with a slight smile. "Guess this explains why you've been so cheerful this morning."

Lisbon decided not to dignify that with a response, though she was sure she was blushing. She noticed Cho's smile get slightly wider. Ignoring him, Lisbon turned her attention back to the other three.

"We should grab dinner while you're in town," Rigsby was saying, slapping Jane on the back. "Catch up."

"Absolutely," Van Pelt agreed. "What're you doing tonight?"

Jane me Lisbon's eyes. "No firm plans," he admitted almost grudgingly.

She smirked.

"Hey, how long're you going to be in town anyway?" Rigsby asked.

Jane shrugged, still watching Lisbon. "Oh, indefinitely," he told the other man.

Rigsby's eyes shifted between Senior Agent and ex-consultant, but if he noticed anything different, he wisely decided not to comment.

Van Pelt smiled sweetly. "So, dinner tonight?" she pressed gently.

Jane turned towards her. "Certainly Grace, why don't you pick the restaurant?"

Van Pelt grinned. "I'll organize the reservation too and let you know. How..."

"Lisbon has the number," Jane assured her.

Van Pelt hesitated. "You've kept in touch then?" she asked, turning towards her boss.

Lisbon shrugged. "In a manner of speaking." She almost laughed when Van Pelt's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Jane wasn't even trying to hide his amusement. "Actually, I was wondering if you were free for lunch," he told Lisbon cheerfully.

Lisbon smiled. "I think I might be free."

"Guess we aren't invited," Rigsby muttered to Van Pelt, narrowly dodging the elbow she aimed at his side.

"Okay, well, we'll leave you guys to it then," Van Pelt said, effectively cutting off any further comments, for which Lisbon was grateful. She was sure the redhead had drawn the same (correct) conclusions that Cho had, but Lisbon wasn't going to worry about that. She turned her attention back to the conversation in front of her. "It was great to see you Jane," Van Pelt was saying sincerely. "You'll have to tell us what you've been up to over dinner tonight."

"Thank you, Grace," he murmured, before gesturing Lisbon towards the elevators. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, letting him guide her to the elevators. "I'll be back in a bit," she called to her team.

They'd barely left the bullpen when she heard Wainwright behind her. "Ah, Lisbon," he said.

To Lisbon's great amusement, her boss stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her companion.

"Morning Luther," Jane greeted cheerfully.

After a second, Wainwright seemed to rally. "Patrick," he said, extending a hand for Jane to shake. "I wasn't expecting to see you here today. Are you..."

"Just heading out to lunch with an old friend," Jane told the other man, still cheerfully, as he shook Wainwright's hand.

"Oh, of course," Wainwright said, glancing at Lisbon. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

Lisbon shook her head slightly. "No problem. Did you need me?"

Wainwright paused, obviously trying to remember what he'd been about to ask her. "Just a quick question about the Mason case, but it can wait until after lunch."

Lisbon nodded. "I'll come see you when I get back."

"I'd appreciate that," Wainwright said awkwardly. "Well, I should let you two go. It's good to see you Patrick, particularly looking so well."

"Likewise," Jane assured him, with twinkling eyes.

Wainwright hesitated even more awkwardly. Luckily, the elevator arrived, enabling Lisbon and Jane to escape onto it. The second the doors closed, Lisbon burst into giggles.

"Well, I didn't stride up and ask him for a job," Jane murmured. "But was his face when he saw me all that you hoped it would be, Teresa?"

She nodded, obviously amused. "So, lunch, huh?" she asked. "Thought you were going to reacquaint yourself with the city today?"

He grinned. "I got bored. Besides, it's a good thing I stopped by, seeing as now having dinner with you will have to be postponed because of your team."

She smirked. "Oh, don't worry Patrick. I was planning on going to that."

He grinned in appreciation. "It's hardly the same, and you know it."

Lisbon shrugged, still amused, "You didn't have to accept the offer."

Jane didn't even consider that. Suggestion, "Any suggestions as to how on earth could I have possibly declined it?"

Lisbon shrugged. "I don't know, impolitely?"

He laughed. "I notice that you hadn't told your team that I was back in town."

"I figured you'd want to do that," Lisbon replied. "And don't even bother trying to pretend that you didn't enjoy that being a surprise."

Jane shook his head affectionately. "You've gotten to know me rather well, dear."

She smiled. "I know," she told him, enjoying the way his eyes lit up when she slipped the letter she'd written earlier into his jacket pocket.

"Did you like your letter this morning?" he murmured, invading her personal space a little more.

Lisbon laughed, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks.

Jane chuckled delightedly. "You did! I thought you might," he murmured. "I'll get better at them, I promise."

"Hmm," Lisbon hummed, not entirely sure what to say in response. A denial would certainly be futile (and not something she was sure she wanted to do anyway). "Just take me to lunch, Jane."

"Certainly," Jane agreed, taking her arm, and leading her out of the building.

Lisbon ignored the mixture of curious and incredulous stares from the security guards. She didn't care what they thought. Right now she wasn't even going to worry about whether or not he'd ever feel up to coming back to the CBI, or if he did, if he'd ever want to. Because he was here, in Sacramento. And he was staying. She had Jane, she had his letters, and he was taking her to lunch.

Right now that was more than enough. They'd figure out the rest as they went along.

Turning towards him, Lisbon realized something. "Hey Jane, are you planning on telling me where you're taking me?"

Jane opened the passenger side door of his car. "Nope!" he said cheerfully.

Lisbon shook her head as he walked around to the driver's side. The man was absolutely infuriating. He was lucky she loved him, otherwise the odd punch in the nose really wouldn't be uncalled for.

Ah well, Lisbon thought, smiling to herself as she settled back against the seat. She'd just tell him so in her next letter. He'd enjoy that.

xxx

The end

A/N: And as always, I'm still taking any last requests for scenes that people want to see from Jane's POV. I haven't started any of them yet, so if you have any, now's the time to tell me.


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